


What I Keep Inside

by Raufnir



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha Gladio, Alpha Noctis, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Assault, Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Gladnis, Heats/Ruts, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Ignis, Pining, Rated Explicit for later chapters, Smut, Trauma, eventually, he's worried that he'll be treated differently if people know he's an omega, ignis lives as a beta, just putting that in the tags now, mentions of mpreg, mpreg is a thing in this omegaverse but not explicitly mentioned (yet?), oblivious gladio, omega Prompto, touch starved ignis, trigger warning - assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 00:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12619184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raufnir/pseuds/Raufnir
Summary: Ignis presented as an omega at the age of sixteen. Worried that his place by Noct's side would be called into question if anyone ever found out he was an omega, Ignis lives his life as a beta. Only as time goes by, it gets harder and harder to resist Gladio's alpha 'charms' and keep his secret from those he holds dearest. At Noct's eighteenth birthday ball, having worked himself ragged in the preparations leading up to the event, Ignis forgets that he's due a heat...





	1. Presentation

**Author's Note:**

> It's full of tropes and fluff, and I should be writing my NaNoWriMo stuff, but I couldn't leave the idea of a touch-starved omega Ignis alone, so I wrote it.

He knew he should have called in sick - his pristine record be damned - when the room began to spin and sweat beaded on his brow.

Despite sitting at his own table in the corner of the high hall, Ignis seemed to be painfully aware of the voices echoing off the walls, and above all, of scents of others in the room: the King's overwhelming alpha presence, like sandalwood and vast oceans; the scent of Clarus that matched it for intensity, leather and iron; the spicy richness of the Marshal beside Clarus; the cool presence of the beta who sat on the other side...

Ignis shuddered and realised he'd been concentrating on the smells of the room so long he'd missed a chunk of the conversation. Unpresented, he shouldn't even have been able to smell them at this range. His brain felt like it was trying to pour out of the back of his head somehow, and his skin prickled and burned.

Mercifully the council meeting adjourned and he sat there, faffing with his papers and folders and pens, until the chamber had emptied. The last thing he wanted was to bring attention to himself and cause a scene if he fell over when he tried to stand up. And right then, that seemed a very real possibility.

Shivering, he packed his briefcase, and levered himself shakily to his feet. "Oh, Six," he gasped as the floor tilted beneath his feet.

He was sixteen, and if he'd been a normal teenager, he'd have been in bed on a freezing, winter Saturday morning, but instead he was dutifully taking notes on an emergency meeting concerning the issue of Galahd.

A sudden clenching in his stomach and a line of fire running from naval to spine drew him up short, and he cried out, a pitiful little sound, clutching his abdomen. Perhaps it was his appendix, he wondered vaguely, even as his knees gave way and he and the briefcase crashed to the floor. Perhaps he should have alerted his uncle before he left the room.

And then there was a hand on his shoulder. "Ignis?" As if called by Ignis' thoughts, his uncle crouched beside him. "Oh, Six, Ignis, it's alright. You're going to be alright. Come on, come with me."

Ignis tried to stand, but his stomach rolled and he heaved, spilling its contents all over the polished marble floor.

"I'm sorry," he groaned, spitting and retching as his breakfast splattered at his feet. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry."

"There, there," his uncle crooned, and suddenly there was that steadying, rich, beta scent billowing around him. "Come on, on your feet."

Ignis clung to him, eyes still fixed on the foul mess he'd created on the floor, but as he staggered upright, clinging to his uncle for support, he felt a strange wetness between his legs. He made a sound at the discomfort, but he cut off halfway through it. It was a whine. Not just a complaint, but a full, needy, awful whine. "What... What's happening to me?" he said, that high harmonic still ringing in his ears. "Uncle?"

"You're presenting, Ignis," he said calmly, scooping up the briefcase and leading him through the secret back ways to his own chambers.

"Presenting?"


	2. Alpha and Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, a longer one this time. In which Gladio unknowingly torments Ignis, who's close to a heat, and some months later Ignis unwittingly gets a front row seat to the reason why Noct's been so much happier lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignis whump ahoy, people, lots of Ignis whump ahoy. Thanks for the love I've had on here and on Tumblr for the first part. I won't be able to post the next parts so quickly, but this is a longer one, so hopefully you'll forgive me...

At 05:00 the alarm blared and Ignis groaned. It had been barely three hours since he'd fallen onto his bed, still dressed, and to all intents and purposes passed out.

It was winter, and it would still be dark outside for hours yet, but he reached for the clock and smacked the button on the top like he was playing Whack-A-Cactaur at the fair.

He reached his long, lean body up into a tight, strained stretch, feeling muscles and bones complaining at the lack of rest, and then he whined involuntarily in disgust. It was normal, apparently, for omegas to be a little wet in the morning, but in four years, he had never once got used to the sensation. And today he seemed a little slicker than usual.

The suppressants and blockers did a lot to contain and control his omega urges and bodily functions, but once every three months he would sink into a blinding, chaotic, writhing mess of hormones and would, to his complete and utter disgust, be able to think of nothing but being knotted by an alpha for at least three days. Not that he had first hand experience of that, but still, his omega knew exactly what it wanted.

He could have upped his dose of suppressants until he no longer had heats at all, but the side effects of a dosage that strong were enough to put him off. Part of him, that soft, sweet, romantic omega, half hoped for the chance to bear children one day, though how he could ever achieve that when the world believed him a beta, he had no idea, but still.

He checked the calendar on his phone and inhaled as tension coiled through his whole body. Sure enough, that very weekend he was indeed due a heat. _Fan-fucking-tastic_. Three days or so of sweating, lust-filled feverish hell.

At least this one would be on a weekend. After he'd passed out two years ago during a council meeting - a shame he had never been able to get over, waking to find Noctis and Gladio leaning over him, faces pale and full of concern - he had been commanded to take weekends off. He still spent most of them tidying up and cleaning at Noct's apartment, or cooking for him – that omega urge to serve and care for those he loved ran deep in Ignis no matter how he tried to behave – but he was under no obligation to do so, and he certainly did not attend any council meetings - unless there was a genuine emergency, of course.

But Noctis, to his great surprise, had begun to accept more responsibilities in the past couple of years, perhaps after witnessing his friend and advisor literally collapsing under the weight of two people's burdens. Curiously, the change had also happened right after he had presented as an alpha. Perhaps his dynamic had prompted him to shoulder the responsibilities he knew he ought bear to as a leader?

Ignis knew he shouldn't push himself as hard as he did. Omegas were not as resilient as alphas and betas to long-term physical strain. It was simple biology, but Ignis fought biology with chemistry, and fought _hard_. Namely with a habit bordering on substance abuse of that most blessed molecule: caffeine.

After a cool shower - cold was something his omega loathed and always caused it to retreat further inside himself - Ignis dressed in clothes he _hadn't_ slept in, and made his way to his small but perfectly organised kitchen.

The knock on his door made him jump as he poured the coffee into his favourite mug - one with 'World Greatest Mom' emblazoned on the outside, a joke Noctis had bought him and of which he had grown ridiculously fond and proprietorial.

It was quarter to six in the morning. He frowned and set the mug down, ignoring the dark ring of coffee pooling around its base, and crossed to open the door.

He blinked in surprise when he saw Gladio standing there, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed, hair mussed and barely restrained in a shaggy attempt at a man-bun. "Morning Ig," he rasped, his voice deep and gravelly and thick with sleep.

To his abject horror, Ignis felt an immediate bloom of slick between his cheeks at the sound of it. Gladio also smelled like an alpha that hadn't showered since the previous night.

Gladio had _no idea_ what he did to Ignis.

No idea at all. And why should he? Ignis was a beta in his eyes. He shouldn't have to keep himself in check as much as he did around Prompto. But Ignis had struggled with his body's reactions around Gladio for four years, and he was damned if he was going to slip up now. "Gladiolus," he said, grinding his teeth as he gripped the door in one hand, knuckles going white.

Why in the name of all the Six did he have to smell so gorgeous? Like sunshine on tanned leather, spices, petrichor, and something else that was utterly unique to him. And he had no idea how difficult it was to resist him.

Then again, maybe he did.

Ignis had seen Gladio flirt with women, wink at them, push his scent out on nights out with Noct and Prompto and flare it so that even betas swooned, but around Ignis it was always the same, constant level of intoxicating and overpowering.

"Figured you'd be up," Gladio grinned. His normal inhale became deeper, nostrils flaring as he raised his chin a little. "Mmm," he moaned. "Wow, something smells good. You baking already?" he asked.

Ignis actually felt the colour drain from his face as he turned away in shame. He, of course, had never smelled his own scent - it was just impossible to smell one's own - but this was not the first time someone had commented on the fact that Ignis often smelled like sweet, freshly-baked pastries.

And then he realised he hadn't yet taken his suppressants and blockers. The suppressants weren't so much of an issue, but the blockers... they burned through the body overnight, and once they were gone, usually halfway through the morning, the person's scent became much stronger. They should still be holding, but it wasn't a chance he wanted to risk.

He swallowed, and moved away, heading for his bathroom. "Excuse me a moment," he said. "Help yourself to coffee or whatever's in the cupboards. I'm assuming you've not eaten yet."

Gladio stepped inside and closed the front door behind him, chuckling. "Now why'd you assume that, Iggy?" he asked, making his way to the kitchen with the familiar ease of someone who knew the apartment almost as well as its owner.

"Because you look like a bear fresh out of hibernation," Ignis shot over his shoulder as he disappeared into the bathroom. "From the state of you and the hour, it doesn't take someone with three degrees to deduce that you are not long from your bed."

Gladio laughed and drank a mouthful of coffee from the mug on the counter. "Too sharp for me, as always," he said.

Ignis closed the bathroom door and leaned heavily against it. "Shit," he cursed. He was more than half hard, and the tops of his thighs were slippery with sweet-smelling slick. "Shitshitshit." He was not one to curse in public, but some times just called for it. Now, with slick pooling between his cheeks and a fast-growing hard-on, was such a time. Perhaps his heat was coming on a little early?

His fingers shook as he popped the blockers from their foil packages, but he gobbled them down, rapidly followed by the suppressants. They wouldn't take long to kick into effect, but with his boxers effectively ruined, and Gladio sitting no doubt in full sight of the bathroom door, it was going to take a little bit of logistical shuffling to get himself clean of the slick and back to his own room to find new underwear.

Mercifully, given the limited space of his modest apartment, Ignis stored his laundry basket in the bathroom. Wearing yesterday's un-slicked boxers for a few moments seemed like the lesser of the evils available to him. A perfunctory wash and temporary change took him, clean, to his bedroom.

Breathing hard for a moment to still his spinning mind, he told himself to relax. Assuming the chilly exterior of the beta he wore like a mantle, a suit of armour, outside of his apartment, he returned a few minutes later to the open plan living and kitchen area. Gladio was sitting on the couch with his legs sprawled wide, Ignis' favourite mug in his huge hands looking more like a tiny espresso cup than a normal mug.

At the faint, twisting heat in his groin, Ignis ground his teeth and marched past him.

Gladio inhaled again and said, "You know, you never answered my question."

"There are any number of things I choose not to answer, Gladio," he said archly as he made himself another coffee, concentrating on heating the cafetiere with hot water first, on emptying it into the sink when the glass was suitably warm, on spooning an _exactly_ flat scoop of grounds into it, on letting the water go off the boil so as not to scald the grounds, on filling it to the mark on the side that he'd made which would provide him with just the right amount and strength...

He leapt nearly out of his skin when he found Gladio standing right behind him, breathing steadily. He turned in the small space the alpha had left him and pressed a firm palm into his chest. _Warm, solid..._ "Back off, Gladio, your morning breath is atrocious."

"Is not," Gladio said, but he dutifully stepped back.

Ignis raised an eyebrow.

"It isn't!" Gladio protested.

Ignis realised he'd made a mistake though when Gladio curled his lip up in a very _alpha_ snarl and bared his alpha tooth, that slightly longer, second canine which sat beside the normal upper canine where a premolar would have been in the other two dynamics. The sight of it made Ignis’ head spin.

"Brushed these pearly whites this morning," Gladio grinned.

"You are such an animal, Gladio," Ignis scoffed, turning back to his coffee. Gods, the sight of that tooth was making his scent gland throb. The heat was less now inside of him as his blockers reduced the intensity of Gladio's alpha scent in his nostrils, and presumably began to mask his own scent a lot better.

"Damn," Gladio breathed. "You smell like breakfast itself."

_Or not._

When Ignis turned, half horror and half anger painting his eyes a more vivid green, Gladio's own eyes went wide and he clamped a hand over his own mouth. "I have no idea why I said that. I'm sorry. I'm just..." His gaze fell to the floor. "I'm a bit of a mess today, apparently. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Ignis caught the acrid scent of a distressed alpha on the air and had to fight the physical urge to comfort him, to rub his cheek over Gladio's scent gland, to run his fingers through that messy hair, to hear him -

\- he blinked and waved his hand, aiming at nonchalant, but probably hitting just shy of dismissive. "Not to worry. Just take it easy today."

Gladio growled softly, more to himself than at Ignis, but Ignis felt the roll of it in his chest and turned to pour his coffee into a new mug. "Did you come here to torment me, to eat my food and drink my coffee, or for some other reason?" He pulled a Tupperware box from the cupboard and offered Gladio a sweet tart which he'd made the previous morning.

Gladio took it with a nod of thanks and bit into it. Ignis didn't watch him, but the moan the alpha made tested his recent, new-found self-control to its limits. "Oh fuck, Ignis," he groaned. "Oh fuck, this is _so_ good. Literally _how_ do you make these so good?"

" _Literally_ ," he said, ignoring the dryness in his mouth and wishing his coffee was brewed enough to pour and drink down in one. "I follow the recipe."

Gladio laughed so freely and beautifully. "Well, I wish it worked that way for me. Anyway, I actually came to see if you fancied walking to the citadel with me," he said, now leaning against the counter.

His dark blue Crownsguard hoodie fitted him so perfectly that Ignis didn't want to look long at him, to he slapped Gladio's shoulder gently with the back of his hand to get him to move so that he could pass. The big alpha dutifully shifted himself meekly out of Ignis' way. "I have a few reports I need to finish up from last night before I leave. You should go on ahead. I wouldn't want you to be late for your session with Prompto."

Gladio's laugh was a bright, warm thing, like polished leather gleaming in sunlight.

Ignis scoffed at himself for how ridiculous that concept was, but he couldn't quite shake the image. Or the scent. Settling himself down at his dining table, he took out a report.

Gladio shook his head, leaning like some oversized, shaggy wolf on the end of the kitchen counter, and said, "How'd you know that, Specs?"

Ignis looked up over the rim of his glasses. "I know _everything_ , Gladio."

The huge alpha snorted. "Yeah, I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"How's Prompto's training coming along?"

Gladio sniffed and shrugged. "Ok, I guess. It got a heck of a lot harder after he presented though."

Ignis' brows twitched.

"I mean, he's got twice as much heart as anyone I've ever worked with, but he expects too much of himself. He'll work himself into the ground just trying to keep up with the rest of the 'Guard, you know?"

Ignis sighed. "Just because he's an omega, doesn't mean he's weak."

"Did I say he was?" Gladio countered, a rumbling heat to his voice. "He's not. He's fucking strong, considering -"

"Considering?" Ignis repeated, venom practically dripping off the word. " _Considering_? _Considering_ he's an omega? How _dare_ you be so condescending!"

"Whoa, that's not what I was gonna say, Iggy," Gladio scowled, throwing up his hands and even baring his neck a little. "I was _gonna_ say considering his _size_. He's small, Igs. No denying that. There's no way he can best someone like me or Nyx in a fight. He keeps trying to, and he's wearing himself out. He was really down after our last session."

"Perhaps you should focus on speed and agility instead of strength. We can't all be built like beasts, Gladio," he said, his tone still sharp.

"Iggy, you're a beta," Gladio said. "You don't understand what it's like for him."

"Oh, and you do?" he laughed, looking up from the paper and clicking his pen a couple of times in agitation. It was not a gentle laugh.

"'Course I don't," Gladio said, face still full of distant thunder. "But I ain't blind. I can see what he's putting himself through." He sighed and scratched at the back of his head. His hair fell out of the messy bun, and he retied it.

The movement drew Ignis' eyes to his enormous biceps, where he knew that beneath the fabric of the hoodie lay the delicious tightness of tanned skin over bulging muscle, the ghostly outlines of his half-finished tattoo, and he fought the urge to squirm and whine invitingly. _'Iggy, you're a beta_ ' Gladio had said. _Don't give yourself away now._

"But maybe you're right," Gladio went on once his hair was again semi-restrained. "If I can get him to focus more on what he's good at, he'll stop feeling so down about his strength."

His voice was gentle now, so damned gentle that Ignis wanted to croon to show how much he appreciated how _kind_ the massive alpha could be. He took a sip of his steaming coffee instead. "That sounds like a good idea."

Gladio's frown was back. "You ok?" he asked. "You look kinda... I dunno… tired?"

"I didn't get back until after one last night, or this morning."

"Ig," Gladio warned, and Ignis felt the full force of it in his chest.

Resisting the urge to clasp a hand to his sternum like he had heartburn, Ignis took a huge gulp of coffee. It burned as it went down, but he didn't care. Anything to get him to stop focusing on Gladio. Why was it so hard to ignore him this morning? Perhaps Gladio was due a rut. He had always been more careless with his scent and his tone of voice around Ignis, probably thinking him a beta and uninterested in him to boot, but this morning it was so difficult for Ignis to think straight.

"Ig, you need to take care of yourself. You work yourself to the bone."

He sighed, back stiffening. He did not like being told what he should and shouldn't do. "I appreciate your concern, Gladio," he said, but Gladio was already shaking his head.

"Nah, come now, Igs, don't try to trample me down with politeness."

"I doubt anyone could trample you, you great, ugly behemoth," he said with a sigh.

Gladio smirked, lip curling invitingly. "Alright, fine, but I'll be checking up on you today. You're finishing after our session tonight. No more work, okay?"

 _Our session tonight._ Oh how Ignis wanted those words to mean something else entirely. "I accept," he said, "On the condition that I have completed everything I have to by this evening."

Gladio growled again, but he clearly knew he was as likely to shift the stones of the citadel itself before Ignis budged an inch.

Ignis' head cleared a little as his morning progressed. Noctis improved his mood greatly by surprising him with actually having read the reports he emailed him yesterday, and, on top of that, he actually had an _opinion_ on them.

Noctis, unusually quiet and calm for an alpha, seemed even more mellow of late. He smiled more that day, and when Ignis asked him why, he simply smiled more, blushed - _blushed!_ \- and mumbled something about getting more sunshine lately or some such nonsense. Ignis actually _felt_ the alpha in Noctis rumble happily at whatever was on his mind, but the prince was not inclined to share, so Ignis didn’t press it.

With summer fast approaching, the weather began to heat up. Ignis _hated_ the heat. It made his omega happy though, and when his omega was happy, it made him more likely to make mistakes.

Making an unannounced detour to Noctis’ apartment one Saturday morning in early June, Ignis assumed the prince and his best friend would still be asleep. He planned to make them breakfast on his way to the farmer’s market. Prompto was staying over more and more often, but Ignis didn't object. The bright omega made Noctis smile and gave him someone unconnected with the palace to take his mind off his duties, and that alone was reason enough to let him stay.

He slipped the key silently into the lock and stepped inside. As he shut the door and turned to head into the main living area, he froze. A wall of pheromones hit him so hard he reeled backwards, clutching at the small shelf on his right for support.

Sweetness like cinnamon and icing sugar pervaded the air of the apartment, with Noct's own scent, one Ignis would recognise a mile off, cutting cleanly through it. The synthesis of the two was utter, intoxicating perfection. Cut-grass and champagne filled his nostrils as Noctis let out a deep, happy _alpha_ rumble, swiftly followed by a peak in the sweetness, and a long, high, shrill of pleasure. Prompto's voice was as unmistakable as his scent.

Ignis couldn't move. A huge amount of slick began to leak between his thighs and his head swam. Every fibre in his whole body screamed at the thought of an alpha one day making _him_ make sounds like that. He'd _never_ allowed himself to be touched by an alpha. Not like that. He didn't trust that a partner would keep his secret. And the man he _really_ wanted could never know the truth. Ignis couldn’t bear the thought of Gladio looking at him like he was less, weak, worthless… Only three men alive knew that Ignis was an omega: his uncle, the king himself, and one other alpha.

A second, shuddering yell rent the air in two and Prompto's scent deepened. It was a bonding scent, and the sound that followed was unmistakably a mating call, as sure as Ignis knew he was standing there.

"Noct, oh, _gods_ , _Noct_!" he panted, gasping.

Ignis found his feet edging unbidden towards the doorway. Peering through the tiny crack, he saw Noctis sitting on the couch below the window, naked, with Prompto riding him in his lap. Prompto’s bare, freckled back arched, his toes clenching as Noctis’ knot slipped inside him.

Prompto threw back his head, fingers clutching Noct's shoulders while Noct's hands clamped down hard on his slender hips, and the omega came with a broken, uninhibited, shuddering scream, crying out over and over as he spilled his seed in the space between them.

Ignis’ mind went ragged at the sight of the other omega being knotted, and the last scrap of rationality told him to get out of there.

Unthinkingly, he dropped the briefcase and _fled_.

He didn't stop running until he was back in his car in the deserted parking lot beneath the apartment complex.

He palmed his cock, and his back arched with a moan. He was so hard it hurt, and he sat with slick pooling between his thighs, but he couldn't stop now. It was unseemly, but he didn’t care. He’d just seen the prince, his charge, naked and thrusting up into an omega, into Prompto, and he shouldn’t be behaving like this. And yet he was.

Lust fogged his vision and he could think of nothing but his own release, lonely though it would be. He removed the glove of his right hand and slid his fingers down the front of his suit trousers, down behind the band of his boxers, and began to jerk himself off in the driver’s seat of the car.

When he came only a few moments later, he bit the back of his gloved left hand so hard he heard the stitches rip. It didn't cover the awful little tremulous whimper he let out as he spilled himself inside his boxers, torso jerking and twitching under the force of his orgasm. His glasses slid nearly all the way off his nose as he lurched forward, and he ripped them off his face to hold in clenched, shaking fingers.

"Six," he hissed as his breath came in short, shallow gasps. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes and he wiped them away angrily.

Shame rushed in to fill the lust in his mind, and he fumbled to open the car window. He knew the whole vehicle was thick with his pheromones, and he didn't want to linger in the parking lot. He’d have to get some upholstery spray to sort the scent of his slick out, but if he got back to his apartment soon, the dampness wouldn’t travel through his boxers and thick trousers too badly.

Wiping himself clean on a paper tissue as best he could, he waited until he was calm and his vision was clear. Then he drove himself home, a dark kind of sadness soaking through into the marrow of his bones. The sight of Noctis and Prompto, so beautifully _one_ had drawn a long, low, miserable, mournful cry from his throat.

Had any alpha heard it, they would have been rendered utterly powerless at the sound of it.


	3. Walls Back Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis recovers after discovering Noctis and Prompto together, but worries that he may have blown his cover by dropping his briefcase. Luckily, a sparring session with Gladio - crashed by Regis, Clarus and Cor - takes his mind off things before he arrives at Noct's apartment, where the two have a little heart to heart about omegas and ambush veggies...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sick today, but I hope you like this chapter. Thank you for your enthusiasm so far! It means the absolute world to me. I wanted to show some of the playfulness between Ignis and Gladio, but also that it puts a bit of a strain on Ignis sometimes. The next one sees Noctis' eighteenth birthday, and an overworked Ignis who has thought of absolutely everything, except for the fact that he may or may not be approaching a heat...

Ignis spent a long time in the shower that night. He was furious with himself for letting his control slip through his grasp like that. What had he been thinking, abandoning his briefcase like that? He bit down the bilious panic that raced through him at the idea that they would know he’d been there. What if they heard him drop it and smelled his arousal behind the mess of their own? Forcing himself to stop imagining progressively worse scenarios, he tilted his head back into the jet of water, closing his eyes.

Perhaps it had been the shock of seeing Noctis like that, thrusting up into Prompto like he was in a rut, which had caused his control to unravel with such catastrophic rapidity. Regis had certainly made sure that Ignis was nowhere near the prince during his heats, so he had _never_ witnessed Noctis like that before.

But he was pleased it was with Prompto. He approved of the relationship they had – couch knotting possibly not withstanding. Day to day, it seemed a nourishing and supportive friendship, and he knew from Prompto’s omega ‘tells’ just how deeply he cared for Noctis.

He supposed he should have seen it coming, though he wished he’d not seen _them coming._ Gods, just the memory of the sight of Prompto’s lean back arching like that, taking Noctis’ whole cock, crying out, being so free and open with who and what he was…

Ignis hung his head and gripped the shower taps, letting water run down his face from his ash-brown hair in rivulets. “That is not a life you will ever have, Ignis Scientia,” he spat. “Stop fantasising about something that can never be.”

He ground his teeth, fumbled the dial round to freezing, and stood there and took the assault on his sensitive omega skin. Needles of ice lanced his flesh, but he just stood there until his skin had a chilly blue tinge to it and he knew he had to get out or risk making himself ill. And a sick omega was truly a pitiful creature.

Grabbing a white towel, he rubbed his body down and got dressed into a pair of plain grey slacks and a light grey vest top. Keeping his omega cold and unhappy was the key to his success.

Summer was progressing, and the next morning dawned warmer than ever, but beginning his day with another cold shower helped. July was fast rolling over into August, and Noct’s birthday was coming up. He still had so much to do on top of his usual duties.

First things first though, he had a training session with Gladio.

Part of him really enjoyed the challenge, the risk, of going up against an alpha. And not just any alpha, an _Amicitia_. He smirked as he slipped into his usual training outfit and padded quietly through the Crownsguard facility to the hall they usually used.

As expected, Gladio was already in there, although it was barely six o’clock. He was busy doing his usual circuits of press-ups, burpees, planks, high knees, and crunches.

Ignis swallowed and tried not to look too closely. Or to breathe too deeply. The whole room smelled of virile alpha male. But of course, betas were less perturbed by the scents of the other dynamics, so why should Gladio rein his scents in?

Ignis sighed.

“Morning sunshine,” Gladio grinned, stopping at the bottom of a push-up, biceps and shoulders solid as cast iron. “You ready?”

Ignis nodded.

“Try not to skin me alive this time, yeah?” Gladio smirked, springing to his feet and looking down at his bare shoulder where a small nick in the skin had nearly healed over. “This canvas needs to be perfect for my ink you know…”

“I apologised a thousand times for that already,” Ignis moaned. The gossamer outlines of Gladio’s half finished tattoo were a beautiful sight, but the effect was tempered by the guilt that flared in Ignis’ stomach when he recalled besting Gladio two sessions ago and losing control, catching him with his blade.

Gladio was laughing before Ignis could say another word. “Don’t sweat it. I love sparring with you. You and Nyx are the only ones who really give me a challenge.”

Ignis attempted to contain the flush in his cheeks at the compliment. “What about the Marshal?”

“Fuck, yeah, I gotta even the tally on that one, for sure,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “What do you wanna do today? Armed or unarmed?”

Taking a deep breath to test his resolve, Ignis masochistically opted for unarmed.

And so it began.

“Fuck me,” Gladio swore as Ignis vaulted away in a back-handspring that would have made any gymnast jealous. “Where’d you learn that one?”

Ignis landed, sank into a crouch, and smiled softly. “I can’t give away all my secrets, Gladio.”

Gladio grinned, wiped away a drop of sweat that was in danger of dribbling into his eye, and, breathing heavily, adopted a ready stance again. Jutting his chin upwards, he flashed his alpha tooth in a lopsided grin, and said, “Come on then. Show me what else you’re hiding.”

“Not likely,” Ignis growled, springing forwards, feinting left, right, and then wrapping his arm around Gladio’s thick neck from behind in the blink of an eye. Kicking the alpha’s knees out from under him, he held him in a headlock until Gladio tapped out.

A round of applause came from the corner of the room, and Ignis let go of Gladio in surprise. Both looked around to see three figures standing in the doorway: Cor Leonis, Clarus Amicitia, and Regis himself.

Ignis sank into a deep bow at the sight of the king and his two closest friends, and Gladio gave a respectful nod.

“Majesty, Lord Amicitia, Marshal,” Ignis said.

Regis nudged Clarus in the ribs and chuckled. “Told you.”

Clarus’ answering grin was the perfect mirror of one of Gladio’s, and he shook his head before turning to Ignis and bowing slightly. “Ignis, I salute you.”

“My lord?” he asked, eyes flickering once to Gladio’s face before returning to the elder Amicitia.

All three in the doorway began to laugh, but it was Cor who answered. “His Majesty and his Shield had a bet going on how long it would take you to best Gladiolus.”

Ignis’ insides roiled. “What?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Regis was still chuckling. “I told Clarus you were made of strong enough stuff to best that behemoth he calls a son.” He shot him a meaningful look and added, “And I was right.”

Ignis swallowed, but Gladio slapped him on the back hard enough to send him reeling a couple of paces. “Gladio!” he complained, which only made the others laugh.

“You keep losing to him, son,” Clarus said, “And I’ll have to reassess which one of you is his highness’ Shield…”

“You wouldn’t?” Gladio asked, a tinge of fear sharpening his tone.

Cor waved a hand. “At ease, soldier, you’re doing just fine. But you do need to work on your agility a bit. I keep telling you not to rely on your height and weight and strength all the damned time, but do you ever listen to me?”

Gladio bowed his head. “Sorry, sir. I’ll try harder.”

Ignis caught the scent of chagrin and shame billowing around him. Did they know just how seriously Gladio took his role? He’d stepped half a pace closer to him before he realised it.

Something in Regis’ expression changed and told him they did know. “Don’t let yourself get complacent either, Ignis,” the king smiled. With a subtle wink, he headed for the doorway. “I’m glad we stopped by. It’s nice to see that my son is in capable hands; I could not entrust him to anyone more capable than you two.”

The praise went straight to Ignis’ and Gladio’s chests, and they bowed formally as the party left. When they straightened, the doors closed, and they exchanged a look.

“Well,” Ignis said, regaining his composure first. “That was unexpected.”

“Yeah,” Gladio breathed. A mischievous expression swept over his ridiculously handsome face, and he punched Ignis lightly in the shoulder. “Thanks for showing me up in front of the king, and my dad, _and_ the Marshal…”

Ignis smirked and headed to the side of the room to begin stretching. “You’re welcome.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a complete little shit sometimes?” he laughed, following him.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Need a hand stretching?”

Ignis considered and sighed. “Thank you, yes.”

Sinking effortlessly down into a full splits, Ignis heard Gladio’s sharp intake of breath behind him.

“Holy fuck, Iggy,” he cursed. “How do you _do_ that?”

Ignis looked over his shoulder at the alpha, who was standing with one arm stretched straight across his chest, rather fruitlessly tugging at it to stretch the shoulder out. “I do yoga every day. Something you could benefit from. How can you be quite so inflexible, Gladio?”

“Fuck off,” Gladio snorted, letting his arm fall loose.

The ghostly feathers looked like autumn leaves decayed to nothing but lacy veins, and Ignis felt a crack forming in his resolve. Concentrating on the pull of his own stretch on his inner thighs, he turned away.

“I was gonna ask you if you needed a hand with that, but I’m not sure how much more I can stretch you…”

If Ignis ground his teeth together at that, Gladio certainly didn’t get to see it. “You can assist me in a moment,” he said. “I would like to stretch forward from here, but I’m somewhat tight today.”

Gladio’s snort was very close behind him, and he shivered visibly. “ ‘ _Somewhat tight_ ’?” Gladio mocked playfully, making a terrible attempt at Ignis’ Tenebraean accent, putting his hands on Ignis’ lower back. “If you’re ‘somewhat tight’, then I don’t wanna know what the hell I am.”

“You, my friend,” Ignis said, trying not to groan as the heat of Gladio’s palms practically seared through the fabric of his shirt, “Could rival the Archaeon for flexibility.” He was sure he’d have two huge, perfect behemoth paw-prints branded onto his lower back later.

“Hard as a rock?” Gladio growled, from _right_ next to Ignis’ ear. “That’s not the worst thing in the world…?”

“Oh you really are an animal,” Ignis retorted. “Are you actually going to help me, or just purr in my ear like the overzealous alpha you are?”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” he chortled, but he did pull back to a respectful distance.

“Must be your charming company.”

Gladio ruffled Ignis’ hair and stood up with a grunt. The waves of alpha sweat he left behind him were just a fraction too much for Ignis. He’d let himself get carried away with the adrenaline of the fight and the praise of the king, and struggled to reel himself back in. Fighting, especially sparring with Gladio, always brought coursing adrenaline through his veins, but with it came a slight slickness between his cheeks.

Pulling up out of the splits, he began to stretch his hamstrings, still sitting on the floor, pressing his forehead to his knees. When he straightened, he found Gladio’s golden eyes on him, and flicked him a questioning frown.

Gladio cleared his throat, and grinned, but his playfulness did nothing to hide the thick scent of alpha arousal. “I’m gonna go shower,” he grunted. “Thanks for another good session, Ig.”

“Any time,” he replied, and watched Gladio stalk from the room.

Well, that was certainly an interesting turn of events. He’d seen and often smelled Gladio’s arousal on nights out with Noctis and Prompto, and sometimes even in training, but always in the company of women. This was the first and only time he’d ever caught that scent alone with him.

But that sort of thing was bound to happen to alphas now and again, surely. They always seemed to think with their cocks, and Ignis knew he had a good figure, even if the ravages of his omega presentation and puberty had left his cheeks a little acne-scarred, and his glasses often hid the true colour of his deep green eyes.

Deciding to chalk it up to excess adrenaline too, he left the room and headed for the changing rooms as well. Gladio was nowhere to be seen, though his scent lingered a little in the heavy, damp atmosphere of the shower area.

Ignis tried to ignore it, setting the shower on its very coldest setting.

The calm he regained in the water was shattered when he arrived at Noct’s apartment.

It was the summer holidays, so there was no real need to coax and cajole the prince from his bed – honestly, he might have been an alpha but Ignis swore he had the nesting instincts of an omega. He pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway, slipping off his shoes as usual. The prince was not one to notice what state his apartment was in, so Ignis had fully expected the briefcase he had dropped in panic the previous evening still to be exactly where he’d left it.

But the hallway was empty.

Totally devoid of all briefcases.

Of anything even resembling a briefcase.

_Shit._

“Specs?” Noct’s voice called from the sitting room.

“You’re up?” Ignis asked, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “Are you well?”

Noct’s bark of laughter rang off the hardwood floor and Ignis felt his adrenaline spike worse. He knew he had to calm down. A frantic omega was prone to hysterical outbursts and mistakes. He was not about to slip up now of all times.

“I’m fine, Specs,” he grunted.

Ignis’ attuned nose detected sleepy, unwashed alpha, and he sighed. _Calm down._ “Forgive me, Noctis,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m just surprised to find you up _and_ out of bed.”

Noct shrugged as he came into the room, and Ignis saw he was still in his pyjamas, hair standing up all over the place, controller in his hand. “Prom didn’t stay last night, so I got no real reason to stay in bed any more.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Are we going to have to have a conversation, Noctis?”

The prince rolled his eyes. “No, gods, no, Iggy. _No_. I know what I’m doing.”

“You really care for him, don’t you?” Ignis asked as he crossed to the kitchen and opened the fridge to find out what the prince had in stock still, and what he needed to buy for him. The briefcase could wait, for now.

When Noctis didn’t answer straight away, Ignis turned to look back over his shoulder. The prince was blushing a rather fetching shade of cherry pink, and staring at his bare toes. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I do.” He looked up at Ignis, and his eyes were suddenly not those of an almost-eighteen year old who would one day inherit the throne of Lucis, but a shy, nervous, uncertain boy. “I think he’s… I think he’s the _one_ , Ignis. Oh gods, don’t laugh,” he finished in a breathy rush.

“Noctis,” Ignis began, but the prince cut him off, standing and barking at him with an _alpha_ tone of command that left Ignis a little shaken if he was honest.

“ _No, don’t_. It’s fine. I’m sorry I mentioned anything at all.”

As the prince began to stalk towards his bedroom, Ignis called after him. “I’m not laughing, Noctis. I’ve seen how you two are together. You work beautifully together.”

Perhaps it was his words that stopped Noctis, but if he was honest with himself, it was probably the tone of his voice.

Noct’s eyes narrowed. “You ok, Iggy?”

“Of course,” he breezed. “Look, you don’t have to talk to me about any of it. As long as the two of you are careful, and discreet for now, I see no reason to bring it up with anyone else.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Noctis goggled at him from the doorway to his room.

Ignis didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted. He settled for an expression somewhere between the two, which made Noctis laugh.

“I thought you were gonna go full ‘mom-mode’ on me about it.”

Ignis smirked and adopted a higher pitched voice than normal and said, “Now, now, Noctis, I raised you to be a responsible alpha…”

Noct’s pretty eyes narrowed in a mock scowl and he softened. “Ah, Ignis, I’m sorry. I get kinda… twitchy without him… He was gonna stay last night, but then he went kinda weird and then left.”

Ignis’ eyebrow, having only recently returned to its usual position, rose once more.

Noct waved a hand. “Don’t worry, _mom_ ,” he sneered, “We’re not mated or anything. I just… ah, forget it.”

Ignis nodded just once, stomach churning.

And then Noctis brought _it_ up. “Your briefcase is over there, by the way. Prom fell over it on the way out.”

He really hoped that the way his heart bungeed around his ribcage didn’t show on his face. He had spent a lot of time in his life schooling his emotions and his face to behave themselves, especially under duress, but now he really, _really_ hoped all that effort payed off.

For an awful moment, he thought his darkest secret was blown. Noctis cocked his head on one side. “Don’t worry, he’s not gonna sue you for a stubbed toe…” he said slowly.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said, still with the fridge door in a death-grip. “Listen, I need to talk to you about the menu for your eighteenth…”

Noctis made a noise of utter disgust, tilted his head back, and suddenly became the small, petulant child Ignis had always known.

“It’s that, or I feed you beans for breakfast.”

“I’d rather starve.”

Ignis chuckled. “Left to my own devices, I’ll put veggies in the canapés…”

Noct gave him his flattest stare.

“I’ll _conceal_ them in the canapés. You won’t even know they’re in there til you’re halfway through a conversation with some _stunningly_ dull minster of finance. And then where will that leave you?”

Noctis knew when he was beaten. “Ok, ok, I’ll do it with you now. On one condition…”

That eyebrow was getting some serious exercise today.

“No ambush veggies.”

The tension that had coiled in Ignis’ lungs suddenly snapped and he burst into a short, hissing laugh. “Deal. No ambush veggies.”


	4. Rumbled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I lied. Kind of. I was going to have this bit and the next one all in one chapter, but I split them up. In this short snapshot just before the party and all the *fun* starts, we have platonic Promnis in the face of a shitty alpha traffic cop, plus some proof that omegas aren't complete pushovers. Fear the wrath of an angry/insulted omega. Especially if that omega is Ignis with another omega to protect. Also Iggy should probably have listened to Prompto...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second update in as many days? I'm on a roll... I hope you like this one... *nibbles lip nervously and flings a short chapter at you*

The last weeks running up to Noct's birthday ball had Ignis run off his feet.

Between organising the menu, sourcing the food for the chefs from local, responsible places - they would certainly have used sub-par ingredients otherwise - ensuring the invitations were sent out in time and to the correct people, and that no one got left off the guest list, and a million other tasks - Ignis had no time for himself. He was getting by on three hours of sleep most nights, and trying to maintain his other duties as well. Even Gladio noticed he was looking ‘kinda peaky’ but Ignis just brushed it all off as usual.

As such, he reached the night of the ball without even having collected his own suit from the dry cleaners, and with only an hour to go until the palace doors opened, and guests from all over Eos would begin pouring in.

He drove like a maniac through heavy Insomnian traffic to pick it up - he refused to use the palace services for his own suits just in case there was any hint of omega left in the fabric - and drew up outside the shop in a zone that clearly was not for parking.

When he approached the counter, there was only one person before him in the queue, and he inhaled sharply in surprise to see Prompto. He'd found it very difficult to look Prompto in the eye since the incident at Noct’s apartment a few weeks ago. “Prompto,” he smiled in gentle greeting.

"Ignis!" Prompto yipped, whipping around at the familiar sound of the advisor's voice. “I thought you’d be at the palace by now!”

“Likewise,” he said, managing a smile. “But alas, my duties got rather stacked up, so…” he spread his hands. “Here I am.”

“Yeah, I completely forgot about picking up my stuff!” he laughed, but when he looked up at Ignis with those clear, sky blue eyes, worry began to crease his brows. “You ok?”

Ignis sighed. “That bad, is it?” he chuckled, lowering his head. “I’m just a bit… ragged.”

Prompto inhaled, about to say something, but his nose caught a scent and he stopped. Sniffing slightly, his frown deepened. “Iggy, are you going into…?”

His question was cut short by the attendant, who dumped Prompto’s outfit down on the counter and turned to Ignis.

“Gee,” the woman said. “I seem to have had nothing but alphas in here this afternoon. It’s nice to have something a little _gentler_ to finish the day with,” and she laughed. “What can I do for you?” she asked, looking at Ignis.

Only, Ignis had frozen in confusion.

“Sir?”

Prompto dug him in the ribs, and he blinked, surprised. “Apologies,” he said, fishing in his pocket for the dry cleaning ticket. “Here.”

The attendant nodded, and left him alone with Prompto.

The second she was gone, Ignis turned to face Prompto. “I don’t know what you think you know, but whatever it is, you keep it to yourself, you hear me?”

Prompto blinked. If Ignis had right out slapped him he couldn’t have looked more shocked. “Of c-course I won’t t-tell anyone,” he stammered, and Ignis’ heart clenched at the sound. His fingers twitched, but he clenched them to stop him reaching out for Prompto. “Ig, we’ve known for a while anyway. We’re not gonna tell anyone.”

Ignis blanched and felt the world spin a moment. “You what?” he asked stupidly. “How long is ‘a while’, and who’s ‘we’, exactly?”

“Me and Noct,” Prompto mumbled. “And… maybe… like… a couple of weeks or so?”

“A couple of weeks?” Ignis repeated, casting his mind back. The briefcase.

“Yeah. I figured it was probably right after you found out about me and him… you know…”

Ignis’ eyes rolled closed. “Of course.”

Prompto laughed. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation in a dry cleaner’s!”

“That makes two of us,” Ignis sighed. “How did you find out for sure?”

“Noct heard the door go, apparently. He kinda panicked and…” his face flushed, and Ignis could imagine how a couple knotted together scrambling for cover might have looked and felt, and tried not to laugh despite his own feelings. Prompto’s scarlet face confirmed it. “When we finally… um… yeah… anyway, later I found your briefcase, and the hall smelled like you, but… _different_ … so we figured… Noct didn’t seem surprised though. Maybe he’s known for longer.”

Suddenly Ignis’ heart clenched again and he asked, “And Gladio?”

Prompto shook his head. “I’d be willing to bet my favourite chocobo plushie he hasn’t got a clue. You know, for a guy that’s supposed to be Noct’s shield, he’s not very observant.”

Ignis’ breathing was still somewhat erratic at the revelation that two more people were aware of his… ‘situation’, and his heartrate skyrocketed.

“Hey,” Prompto murmured, stepping close. “It’s ok, Ig. No one but me and Noct knows, I’m sure of it.”

And that was when Ignis caught that familiar cinnamon and icing sugar smell. “Prompto, don’t,” he said, stepping back, shying away from the touch, still managing to smile despite his fears. “It’s alright. You don’t need to do that.”

Prompto’s soft lips curved into a gentle smile. “Ok, but I can smell you… It might mask your scent if I push mine…”

“ _Whooff_ ,” the attendant exclaimed as she came back out. “Easy there, boys. This whole place smells like a bakery, not that I mind, but could you, I dunno, dial it down a notch? My customers might not like fresh baked cinnamon rolls as much as I do, you know?”

Prompto blushed crimson again and stepped away as Ignis collected the suit and paid for the cleaning.

“You take care now, you two,” the attendant called as they left the shop, the little bell above the door jangling. “It’s late for a couple of omegas to be out alone…”

Ignis’ jaw clenched, and he halted in his tracks, an acerbic remark on his tongue, but Prompto’s hand on his lower back made him step out into the balmy evening. “Oh perfect,” he snarled when he saw the traffic cop bending over the car. “Simply _perfect_.”

The man was just setting down the ticket, greasy hands all over the bonnet, when Ignis drew himself up and called out, “Excuse me. That’s Crown property.”

The traffic cop rounded on them and laughed. “I don’t care if the King himself is inside it, you can’t park here.”

“Look,” Ignis said flatly, but as he approached, the man caught wind of their combined scents and inhaled ostentatiously.

“Well, well,” he chuckled. “What have we here?” He looked around, presumably casting about for some sign of their alphas, and when he found none, his tone became thick and greasy with suggestion. “Two little omegas far from home… and unprotected…”

“I don’t need protection,” he snarled, fingers itching to draw his daggers from Noct’s armiger. His tone was sharper than any steel. “And I work for the Crown,” Ignis said, drawing out his official badge out instead of a blade and holding it steadily for the traffic cop to see. “You will remove this ticket and be on your way.”

The cop cocked his head to one side, staring from Prompto’s wide eyes to Ignis’ own intense green stare. Judging Prompto to be the more easily overwhelmed of the two, he pushed out a great wave of his disgusting scent and reached for Prompto’s freckled, frightened face.

Ignis stepped into him so that the man’s belly collided with his strong, lean torso, and he never reached his intended target. Ignis stared him down with a coldness that would have done any beta proud. The acrid stench of Ignis’ displeasure suddenly filled the man’s nostrils. Ignis was making no attempt to hide what he was, and an angry omega that couldn’t be overwhelmed could be as dangerous as any alpha if pushed.

“Well,” he said, hands going to his hips. He jutted his pelvis forward ever so slightly, in an _alpha_ display that made both omegas want to retch.

Ignis stood his ground, staring him down.

“Well, since you two are so pretty and all,” he said, taking a step forward and putting his finger and thumb to Ignis’ cheekbone. Ignis slapped it away before he could pinch him, and the alpha chuckled somewhat defensively. “And feisty too,” he said. “I like it. Alright. I’ll let you off. But don’t let me catch you around here again, or you’ll find I might ask you for a little repayment, if ya catch my meaning…”

“Oh I understand you perfectly,” Ignis said, still standing ramrod straight while Prompto actually cowered behind him.

Ignis opened the passenger door for Prompto, took Prompto’s suit from his hands, and when he was safely inside with the door closed, he slid their clothes, mercifully in plastic bags to protect them from that alpha’s stench, onto the back seat.

Inside the car, Prompto let out a cavernous, trembling sigh. “Oh man,” he said in a rush, going limp in his seat. “Oh man, I thought he was gonna go full _alpha_ on us. I don’t know how you stood there and took it so calmly. I’d have gone to shit… I _did_!” he laughed. Fear still bubbled through his scent, like burning sweets, and Ignis took a deep breath and pushed out his own scent, just a little.

“Lots of practice, Prompto,” he said. “I train with Gladio, remember?” Though if truth be told, the after effects of withstanding that degree of assault were beginning to catch up with him. He took a moment to calm himself, breathing steadily and deeply. It was on the last of these inhales that he caught Prompto’s fear still lingering.

Thick waves of warmth enveloped Prompto and Ignis could track the changes in his state of mind by just watching his face.

“Oh,” he said, his voice acquiring a dreamy quality, “Oh Ignis. Wow. Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok,” he said, resting a hand lightly on Prompto’s thigh as his knee bounced. “Just… Please don’t tell anyone. About me. Or that,” he jutted his chin out to where the traffic cop was still watching them like a voretooth lurking in the bushes.

“I won’t. I swear. But…” he started to ask another question, but Ignis started the car and pulled away.

“No, Prompto. I don’t want to talk about any of this any more. I have other things I need to focus on tonight.”

“But –”

It wasn’t like Prompto to press something, but Ignis was not backing down. “ _No_ , Prompto. I’m _done_ with this conversation.”

His tone was sharp after the sweetness of his omega scent, and he opened the window to clear the air.

Prompto rapidly decided not to finish his question, whatever it had been.

It wasn’t until Ignis was in the middle of the party that he thought he probably ought to have heard the kid out.


	5. Birthday Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis, having worked himself to the bone, has forgotten to keep track of his heat. Ignoring Prompto, who was only trying to help, he attends the party, and ends up with a nasty surprise. Shamed, and believing he has lost everything he ever held dear, Ignis sinks into a heat like none other. Touch starved, but met with infinite kindness and concern by those who love him, he spends his heat in Noct's apartment under the watchful eye of the prince and his omega. And Gladio? Only time will tell on that front...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iggy whump ahoy, people. Also a couple of explicit descriptions. And some more Iggy whump. I hope you enjoy it... And I'm overwhelmed by the comments and feedback I've had from this. Thank you so much. Really, it means the world. 
> 
> Also, a quick note: anything in italics is said with an intonation specific to the dynamic, i.e. an alpha/omega voice...

Prompto sat in utter silence as Ignis wove back through the traffic, taking side streets and short cuts that Prompto would never have known existed, until he emerged at the back of the citadel. The guards recognised Ignis’ car and waved him in, and he drew up in the parking lot without a word.

Prompto tried one more time to talk to him as he shut the engine off, but Ignis was out of the car, spiked defences up, before Prompto could even open his mouth, and he slumped. Ignis _must_ know. Perhaps he was just going to make an appearance and then leave? If he didn’t want anyone to know about the truth of his dynamic though he was cutting it very fine.

The scent of freshly baked pastries swirled around him, not enough to cloud Prompto’s mind, but enough for him to be aware that that was not the scent of a beta. Sure, some of the betas Prompto trained with in the Glaive smelled incredible, Crowe in particular had the most amazing scent, like dark, rich ulwaat buries and cinder toffee, but there was an undeniable sweetness to Ignis that, as Prompto stepped from the car, made him think of feverish, sweating heats of his own.

Ignis was dangerously close to being in full heat.

The advisor snatched up the two bags of dry cleaning from the back seat, and when Prompto had taken his with a sheepish, “Thanks,” Ignis locked the car and strode away.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he juggled the dry cleaning for a moment while he fished it out.

Noct: Dude, where the hell are you?

Prompto: Just been picking up my stuff from the cleaners. Met Iggy there. He’s not looking so great. I’m kinda worried.

Noct: Worried? What’s wrong?

Prompto chewed his bottom lip, now lagging way behind Ignis as he marched away across the parking lot in long, confident strides, towards a side entrance to the palace.

Prompto: I could smell him way more than usual but he didn’t want to talk about it.

Noct: Think he’s… you know?

Prompto: Maybe. I’ll see you in a minute. Just coming up from the back of the palace.

Inside, using his new Crownsguard badge to swipe entry into the building, Prompto could smell the lingering fragrance he now knew was Ignis, but there was no sign of him. Puffing out his cheeks he let out a dispirited sigh – there was little Prompto could do now anyway, after all, Ignis was a grown man and had presumably been dealing with heats in secret for years…

 

<=============================================================>

 

When Ignis finally made it to the ballroom he was sweating. He’d let that last minute panic over the choice of champagne for the toast – _who in their right mind picked that third rate Galahdian Spumante over the Tenebraean Morning Dew for Astrals’ sake?_ – get in the way of his last minute preparations, thus putting him disastrously behind schedule.

The encounter with Prompto left his veins fizzing with fear, but he had no time to dwell on that now. Nor on the fact that every now and again he could still smell that awful alpha’s scent on him, despite having washed his hands and face six times in the short time since then. _Focus, Ignis,_ he snarled quietly at himself. **_Duty_** _before all else._

Delegates from all over Eos would be expecting Noctis to engage in scintillating conversation with them, and Noctis, though he had come a long way in the last couple of years, would still need someone by his side to whisper the names into his ear as they approached. He would have bet his best chef’s knife that Noctis hadn’t studied the folder of names and faces he’d given him last week.

Fretting, and, to his horror, perspiring lightly, Ignis pushed the door open into the antechamber and sucked in a nervous breath. The ballroom beyond was full already. He licked his lips, smoothed the panels of his jacket down, and moved inside.

The ambient mix of alpha, beta, and even the odd omega, pheromones was added to the billowing clouds of perfume and the fumes of the alcohol, and it made for a heady mix. He picked out Noctis’ figure immediately, and was pleasantly surprised to see him talking quietly with an ambassador from Tenebrae. Lord Ravus and his sister were due to arrive later in the evening with a small retinue, but Noctis had clearly taken Ignis’ advice to speak to the woman first to acquaint himself with the very latest news of the Nox Fleurets.

He relaxed a fraction.

Gladio was standing quietly like a looming winter shadow behind Noctis, not saying anything, eyes roaming the room every now and again. Ignis knew he wore an earpiece and was in constant contact with Glaives who patrolled the area, but the sight of Gladio in his full Crownsguard uniform, hair neatly brushed and tied back off his handsome face, standing with the air of a coiled spring behind his prince made Ignis’ blood rush to his head and then just as quickly pool somewhere else.

Giddy for a moment, he looked away, closing his eyes. The temperature in the room seemed to spike, and the noise and chatter surged to deafening. Blinking and breathing quickly, heartbeat fluttering in his chest, he reached for a glass of champagne as it passed on a glittering silver tray, swiping it with the lighting precision of a mantis.

Three gulps in, and a touch at his elbow made him jump. Cor stood at his side. “You did a good job with this, Ignis,” he smiled. “You can relax now.”

Ignis blew out a sigh and narrowed his green eyes. “I’m not sure I could quite allow myself the pleasure of _relaxing_ now, Marshal,” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “But thank you.”

“I mean it,” Cor growled, though his tone remained warm and affectionate all the same. “I heard you were responsible for picking up on the weakness in the security roster?” He waited for Ignis’ blush to bloom and fade. “You shouldn’t have been looking at that,” he began, and Ignis bowed his head.

“I apologise, Marshal. I was actually only looking at it to determine the best moment to announce the Nox Fleurets when they arrive. I had no intention of meddling with –”

“Scientia, I’m trying to thank you,” he chuckled. His ice blue eyes fell on the champagne flute clutched in his fingers and he nodded. “ _Enjoy_ yourself.” He leaned in close to Ignis’ ear and whispered, “And for fuck’s sake, try and relax. Clarus told me to tell you: you look like someone stuck a cactaur up your arse and you’re trying to hide it.”

And with that, and a final, paternal squeeze at Ignis’ elbow, he left the advisor standing at the edge of the room while people seemed to flow around him in an endless river of billowing gowns and sparkling brocade.

He couldn’t help but think it was unlike the Marshal to be so familiar with him. Sure, Cor had spent a fair amount of time with them considering he had rescued the prince’s best friend as a child and subsequently raised Prompto as his own son, but he had never been so downright _friendly_ to Ignis.

He wasn’t given time to dwell on his puzzlement any longer, because a woman he recognised as Countess Myrella approached in a swirl of red satin.

“Countess,” he said, bowing.

“It’s Ignis, isn’t it?” she crooned. Her dark hair was piled up on top in what looked like a very good approximation of a mindflayer in full combat, but Ignis didn’t have time to dwell on her disturbing hairstyle before she had gripped his upper arm and was leaning in close, her garish red lipstick and overdone makeup looming large in his face. “Darling,” she said, “I never realised what a handsome young man you’d become. It must be easily four years since I saw you last…”

Ignis reeled away in horror. Four years ago he’d been sixteen. The predatory woman pushed out a repulsive wave of sickly alpha scent that made his head spin, but he couldn’t step back, couldn’t move away. “Please, Countess,” he panted, gently twisting his arm out of her fingers.

“ _Dance_ with me, Ignis,” she purred, her voice heavy with a suggestion he couldn’t pull away from.

“I… The prince… he…” Ignis tried to protest, but she swept him onto the dancefloor and whirled him about. He was powerless as an acorn in a whirlpool.

His feet remembered the steps but his mind was racing. He didn’t want to cause a scene, but equally this was the last thing he wanted right now. He had to be at Noct’s side. The prince would be facing the guests alone. He had to help him, to support him: that was his job, his role, his life, he –

She leaned right in close to his neck as the dance eventually finished, and brushed her lips against his skin. “You really are on _fire_ tonight, Ignis Scientia,” she laughed.

His brow certainly felt hot enough for it, his cheeks flushed and stinging too. “I… I thank you for the dance, Countess,” he said breathlessly, letting go of her hand and retreating a step closer to the open doors on the side of the ballroom.

And then someone was at her side, drawing her away. “Don’t go too far, _pigeon_ ,” she cooed, looking back over her shoulder.

Fighting the urge to vomit at the second predatory alpha descending on him in a day, he turned away. His skin crawled where she’d touched him.

The ballroom seemed oddly hot, even given the time of year and the temperature outside.

Ignis surreptitiously snuck his gloved hand down the collar of his shirt and tugged, but the action brought no relief, and the material seemed to scratch at his skin. He frowned. Had he inadvertently bought the wrong washing powder? He frowned. Surely not.

Why was it so damned hot in there?

And then, as Noctis finished his first pass of the room and decided that he had time to head out onto the balcony with Prompto for a few stolen moments, Ignis realised what the hell was wrong with him. With the horror of a brick dropping through a plate glass window, he realised what was going on as Noctis, passing within a foot of where Ignis stood, smiled at Prompto and _purred_ at him.

Alphas rarely purred, reserving it for intimate situations where they could be alone with their lover, and to do it here, in public, where anyone close enough could have heard, was a clear sign of possession, love, and trust.

And Ignis’ omega decided that it could no longer hold on. It was due a heat, and that heat was going to break right there and then.

The room began to spin as Prompto took Noct’s hand, and Ignis backed away. Almost drunkenly he wove along the edge of the room, mouth dry, vision blurring, ears ringing, and, _oh by the gods,_ slick beginning to pool between his cheeks. He could feel himself letting go and he was powerless, utterly powerless, to stop it.

In seconds that felt like centuries, he was across the room, but he collided with a waiter holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres. The crash brought the eye of every guest in the room, but instead of staying to help, Ignis opened up a side panel in the wall that few people knew was there, and disappeared inside before anyone even had time to register what had happened.

He fell into the dark passage behind him, breathing hard, a feverish sweat breaking out over his whole body. He shook, trembling in the darkness, as slick pooled between his thighs. “Oh no, gods, _please_ _no_ ,” he whined sliding down the wall to land in a shivering, sweating heap at the bottom, hearing the _omega_ intonation in his voice, utterly unable to stop it.

He tried to stand, but his legs shook. He was suddenly so hard. He couldn’t get Noct’s alpha purr out of his brain. It replayed over and over, until he found himself palming his cock through his trousers.

Oh gods, what wouldn’t he give to have someone do that for him. To have _Gladio_ look at him askance like that, to jut his chin up just a little, to part his lips and let out that deep, throaty rumble. He palmed his cock harder, more desperately, unable to stop the reel of images speeding through his mind so fast he thought everything would catch fire.

The relief at the touch was instant, but minute compared to what he really needed.

He knew he had to get back to his rooms in the citadel. He’d never make it to his city apartment.

He knew he had to get out of the way.

He knew that someone would find him soon, or _smell_ him more likely, and then his secret would be out, if it wasn’t already, but all he could focus on was the memory of that purr, and the sensation of his palm on his weeping, hard cock through this trousers.

“ _O-Oh_ ,” he moaned, back arching. Tears sprang to his eyes as the rational part of him – still there but forced into retreat by the surging of his inner omega in heat – realised how royally and metaphorically fucked he was.

To his utter horror, the panel in the door opened a crack, light flooding in, and an enormous figure stood filling the doorway, silhouetted against the light of the ballroom. “Iggy?”

“Oh fuck,” Ignis cursed. “Oh fuck not you. _Anyone_ but you,” he sobbed, trying to back away down the deserted passageway. “Please.”

“Oh mother of Astrals,” Gladio swore as the scent of Ignis’ heat hit him. He closed the door behind him with a snap, staggering slightly as the force of the pheromones hit him. “Holy shit, Ignis. Are you an –?”

“ _Don’t you **dare** say another word_ ,” Ignis snarled, fear thrilling along his arteries. “Fuck,” he exhaled, limbs going weak as Gladio’s scent billowed around him. “Oh fuck. Oh _Astrals_ _please no_.”

The alpha was intrigued, concerned, afraid, and monstrously turned on all at once.

But then, rising above all other emotions, Ignis realised that Gladio was utterly, breathtakingly _furious_.

“Back off. Back _off,_ ” Ignis yelped in panic, gasping for breath, begging for clean air that didn’t smell of the carnal fury of an alpha. Misery and terror mingled in his mind. Of _course_ Gladio was angry with him. Of _course_ he was. Ignis had deceived him for too long for this to be in any way alright. Desperate sobs began to wrack Ignis’ whole body as he held his hand up – anything to keep Gladio from taking another step towards him in the close confines of the secret passage.

Ignis’ terror must have struck Gladio’s nose too, because the alpha crooned suddenly, softly, and Ignis felt his whole body shiver.

“ _Please_ ,” Ignis whined, and he wasn’t sure if he was asking him to make the sound again, or to stop.

“Hey,” Gladio crooned. “Hey, it’s ok. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Go away, please,” Ignis whined. “ _Please_ , just _leave me alone_.”

“Iggy, you need to get out of here. You need help.”

“I’m not going to let you fuck me,” he spat, teeth flashing in the dim light of the corridor. “So you can forget – _ah_!” his lust spiked and he just couldn’t keep his palm from his cock again.

“Ig, I want to help you.”

“Then you can get Noctis,” he snapped. An alpha who wouldn’t be angry with him was _infinitely_ better than Gladio right now. And Noctis already knew, apparently.

“Noctis?” Gladio asked.

A sudden chilling calm dropped into his voice. _Too_ calm, but Ignis didn’t linger on that fact.

“Ok, I’ll get him.”

Hurt washed down the corridor in Gladio’s wake. Hurt and anger. He didn’t re-enter the ballroom through the secret – or now not so secret – panel, but instead moved confidently along the corridor as though it were lit with blinding daylight, and then after his footsteps faded, Ignis heard a door slam, leaving him alone once more.

He tried to push himself up, using the wall, but his knees were weak as water. How could he have been so monumentally _stupid_? He _always_ kept track of his heats. He should have _known_ this was coming. Prompto had even tried to warn him. Somewhere in his dazed mind he knew he had to apologise to him when he could. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his brain, but all he could think of was the way Gladio had smelled.

He’d been so angry with Ignis.

Tears dribbled down Ignis’ face.

He’d lost his best friend forever.

Things could never be the same now. Now that he knew what Ignis was, Gladio would despise him. Ignis had lived a lie all these years, and now Gladio knew the truth. Gladio would tell his father that Noct’s adviser was a hormone-driven, weak-willed, easily-overwhelmed omega, and he would be removed from Noct’s side. The council would advise the king, and the king would have no choice but to agree, even though he knew what Ignis was.

Ignis would have no purpose.

No one would take him in. No one would hire a reject from the royal household, let alone an _omega_. He’d be lucky if he could find work as a whore in an outlying town, taking rutting alpha hunters’ cocks, and worrying day and night about unwanted pregnancies.

The cry of terror and self-loathing that left his throat echoed off the walls and masked the opening of the door at the other end. In no time though he heard feet running, and Noct’s voice calling his name. A flashlight bobbed in the darkness.

“Iggy? Iggy? _Ignis!_ Where are you?”

Ignis was busy staggering along the corridor in a blind fog of pheromones by the time Noctis caught up with him and grabbed him under his arm, holding him up. “Hey, Iggy, it’s ok. Come on.”

“Noct,” he moaned, misery etching itself into his larynx, making his voice deeper, hoarser. He leaned into the alpha before realising what he was doing and tried to shove his body away. “Don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” Noct smiled. “I know. I _know._ I’ve known for years. It’s ok. Come on, you’re ok. _You’re ok_.”

And with the alpha intonation at the end, Ignis’ last reserves crumbled.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” he sobbed. “ _I’m so sorry_. You shouldn’t be here. You should get back to the party. _I’m so sorry, please… I stink. Don’t trouble yourself with me_.”

“Ignis, not another word,” Noctis growled. “I’m taking you to my room.”

Panic surged afresh. “No, no, they’ll smell me in there. They’ll smell me, and –”

“ _Enough_.”

Noct’s alpha voice made him shiver and he leaned in to be closer. And caught the smell of cinnamon and icing sugar. “Oh gods, Prompto,” he whined, pushing himself off. “What will he say? He was right. I didn’t listen. And he’ll hate me too.”

Noctis only chuckled as he awkwardly manhandled Ignis along the corridor and they began to mount a steep flight of wooden stairs. “He’s ok. He knows I’m here. He told me to take care of you. No one hates you, Ignis. This is just your omega talking.”

“But…”

“Ignis, what did I _just_ tell you?” Noctis laughed. “It’s _fine_.”

How many times had he and Noct used these passages to sneak out as children to watch the stars or roam the streets around the citadel looking for the shadow of a normal life? And now Ignis was reduced to a quivering wreck of hormones and want. It was so shameful he could barely bring himself to keep going. He had never hated his dynamic more than he did in that moment.

Eventually they emerged into Noct’s rooms, after an interminable series of staircases and doors, secret rooms and passages, and Ignis inhaled the scents of the room and _whined_. “ _Alpha_ ,” he moaned.

Noct deposited him on the bed and took his glasses, jacket, shirt, shoes, and, after only a little hesitation, his trousers off. When Noctis tried to take his socks off though, Ignis arched his back and let out another high pitched whine that went straight to Noct’s groin. Ignis, it seemed, had very sensitive ankles.

“Shit,” Noctis breathed. “I can’t do this.”

“ _I’m sorry,_ ” Ignis said, his hand starting to palm his crotch again over his black boxer-briefs. “ _Leave me. Just go. Please_.”

“Iggy,” Noct began. “I… You don’t really want me, do you?” he said, amazed that he was able to distinguish Noctis from the generic ‘alpha’ that his body craved. By the time Prompto got to this point, he was incoherent with lust.

Ignis shook his head feverishly, his hair falling into his eyes now that Noct had removed his glasses.

“Who do you want?”

“ _Gladio_ ,” Ignis moaned, and his face filled his mind, followed by the memory of that anger. “But don’t. _Please_ don’t get him.”

The scent of his slick filled the room, his body pushing out more of that sweet smell, like sugared almonds and freshly-baked pastries, and he began to writhe.

“Iggy,” Noct said in a small voice. “Iggy, if I don’t get him, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help you. All I have to go on are Prompto’s heats, and he won’t stop til he’s had his fill of a knot or a toy… you know…”

One thing crossed Ignis’ mind, an image, and he managed to gasp a sentence out around his heat-crazed moans, “In my apartment… under my – _ah_ – under my bed… there’s – _o-oh gods_ – there’s a box. Please don’t open it. Just bring it.”

“Ok, any chance I’m gonna get the wrong one? I doubt you’ll want me to bring a load of old CDs here or something…”

Ignis managed one of his little smiles before his back arched again and he threw his head back into Noct’s soft pillows and _keened_. His hand moved beneath the band of his boxers to grip his cock and he let out a series of moans as he began to pleasure himself beneath the soaked fabric. “Please, there’s only one there,” he managed to choke out. “ _Please_.”

So Noct rummaged around in Ignis’ jacket and left him alone in his own rooms, locking him in. He headed out the way he had come, down those endless dark stairways, ending up in the parking lot. Prompto met him there after a quick text conversation.

“How’s he doing?” Prompto began as Noct approached him, but his eyes widened when he caught the swirling scent of omega clinging to Noctis. “Oh gods,” he moaned. “How did you resist that? I think _I’m_ turned on by it…”

Noct smiled ruefully and cast Prompto a sidelong look. “He’s not you, that’s how. And… anyway, he’s more like a brother to me. I couldn’t… and he wouldn’t want it anyway. He wants Gladio.”

“They _would_ be perfect together… Gladio looked pretty pissed though… when he came back in to tell your dad what had happened.”

Noctis shook his head. “Gods, Iggy’s gonna be so cross when he comes through this.” Then he paused as they raced towards where the Regalia was parked. “Why was Gladio pissed?”

“Er, maybe because he had no idea about any of this?”

Noct’s shoulders drooped and he slowed as a small spike of pain in his lower back suddenly made him gasp.

“You ok?”

“Just my back,” he nodded. “Iggy was going on and on about everyone hating him now that it’s ‘out’.”

Prompto grabbed his arm. “Gladio made an announcement,” he said, and Noct’s eyes widened with horror.

“No,” he gasped. “Oh fuck, no, he didn’t…?”

“It’s ok,” Prompto smiled. “He just said that Ignis had worked himself to the bone to make sure tonight was a success, on top of all his regular duties, and he had just exhausted himself. He said you’d gone to make sure he was comfortable. Everyone gave him a round of applause, and then went back to drinking and dancing. It’s fine. No-one suspects.”

“They didn’t smell him?” Noct asked incredulously.

Prompto shook his head. “No, he wasn’t in the room in full heat long enough, and besides, with all that perfume and food and other people… there was no way it’d carry _that_ strong, or that anyone would know it was him anyway. He’s ok.”

Breathing out a sigh of cool relief, the prince unlocked the car and slid in.

He dropped Prompto off at a supermarket nearby the citadel, and Prompto grinned. “Leave it to me, I’ll get all the other stuff he’s gonna need. I’ll walk back from here, don’t worry. You just get his other things, and a change of clothes, ok?”

Noctis knew it was reckless to be out on his own, without Gladio or a Glaive to watch him, but Ignis came before all other things right then. Ignis had dedicated so much of his life – all of it Noct supposed – to him. The least he could do was help him out when he had no one else to turn to.

When Noctis returned, he could smell Ignis the moment he opened the door to his apartments. Locking it behind him, and bellowing at the Crownsguards on duty not to let anyone in for any reason at all, and especially not Gladio, he bolted to his bedroom.

If he’d thought the smell of Ignis’ heat was strong in the adjoining room, the scents filling his bedroom were beyond what he’d ever expected. Prompto’s heats were short and intense, made shorter by the fact that Noctis was able to knot him and calm him, but he suspected that Ignis had never taken an alpha’s knot. And, given that he lived his life as a beta, he must be more touch starved than almost any omega ever had been. That, from what he knew of being an omega from talking with Prompto, would make his heats almost unbearable.

The way Ignis turned his head the moment Noct entered the room, those green eyes tracking his every movement, was a fair indication of his state of mind. The Ignis he knew and recognised was nowhere to be seen.

Naked, legs spread apart, propped up on Noct’s pillows, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, Ignis had one hand on his cock and his other playing unashamedly with his slick entrance.

Noctis tried very hard to keep an even expression, and to look anywhere but at Ignis’ groin. Of all the sights he’d ever expected to see, Ignis, naked, rocking back and forth, spilling so much slick over his blankets that they’d probably have to be burned afterwards, was not one of them.

In short, Ignis was a mess.

“I got the box,” Noctis said, trying not to breathe too deeply as he stepped closer. “Where’d you want it?”

Ignis panted, squirming and writhing. He didn’t seem able, or a least willing, to take his hands from his body long enough to open it. It didn’t take a genius to know what was in it though.

“You want me to open it for you?” he asked in a soft, alpha-laced voice.

Ignis reacted by throwing his head back and keening, exposing his neck to Noctis, begging him to scent him, to bite him, to ease the coiling, painful tension of his heat.

“Hey,” Noct said, reaching tentatively for Ignis’ forehead to push those stray, sweaty strands of hair back out of his heat-clouded eyes. Ignis’ pupils were blown wide, and a litany of sinful noises tumbled off his lips, but the way he leaned into Noct’s hand and keened pitifully nearly broke Noctis.

“ _We love you, Iggy_ ,” he said in a quiet, _alpha_ rumble. “ _It’s ok. It’s ok. You’re ok. You’re loved, it’s ok_.” He went on and on as Ignis began to cry desperately into Noct’s hand, and Noctis stroked his hair with the other. “ _You’re perfect._ _You’re ok_.”

Only a few seconds later when Ignis came, though he was empty by that point, he gasped and sobbed. Noct held him while his body went limp against the sweat-, slick-, and cum-soaked bed beneath him. Exhaustion swept over him and he closed his eyes, shivering.

The heat seemed to be subsiding for now, so Noctis put the unopened box on the floor and went to get a wet cloth to clean him up a bit. He texted Prom and asked him to add some painkillers, and some new sheets to his list, and to use the secret door in Noct’s bedroom that only a handful of people knew about.

Prompto replied shortly that he was just walking across the citadel forecourt, and was way ahead of him with the supplies requests.

Emerging from the bathroom, cloth in hand, Noct saw that Ignis was asleep, his chest rising and falling rapidly, exhaustion writ loud and clear on his beautiful face.

When Prompto arrived with the supplies Noct had requested, and a number of other things that only an omega would think of, he asked Noctis to leave Ignis to him for a while. He emerged later that night, with a couple of empty energy drink bottles and a pained look on his face.

Noctis rose and crossed the room, sweeping Prompto up into his arms. He buried his face in Prom’s neck and asked him how Ignis was doing.

“Honestly, he’s a mess,” Prompto said without pulling back. He smelled like heat and sex, and something else. Something softer and kinder. “And I don’t just mean the fluids… He’s… He’s been keeping this locked up inside himself for so long… He’s convinced we’re all going to hate him now that we know what he is.” Prompto hugged Noctis back and whimpered, “He’s so frightened. I’ve never seen him like this. I didn’t think anyone _could_ be like this.”

“I didn’t know he was that bad,” Noct said, not letting go of his best friend. “I… I didn’t know how to tell him I knew. I’ve known for, like, two years now? I should have tried harder.”

“ _Shh_ ,” Prompto said, running his fingers through Noct’s hair. “It’s not your fault either.”

He sighed. His phone pinged, and he let go of Prompto. He crossed to the desk where it sat, and grunted when he saw the number of messages. “Shit,” he said. “Dad’s pissed I missed the _whole_ party.”

“Your _dad_ texted you?” Prompto asked, astonished.

Noct huffed a laugh. “No, Gladio did.”

Prompto’s eyes flickered to the bedroom door. “Don’t let Ignis hear you saying his name.”

“Why?”

“He’s so ashamed of Gladio seeing him like this. He’s crushed…”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Ugh, please. Gladio adores him… He wouldn’t care what he is, but he’s too chicken to ask him out. I’m sick of it.”

Prompto bit his lips to keep from laughing.

“What a Six-damned mess,” Noctis said, flopping down in the nearest armchair and flicking on the TV. He kept the volume low, but he needed something to take his mind off the memory of Ignis crying into his hand, desperate for touch and comfort.

Half an hour later, there was a knock at the door. “Princess? It’s me. C’mon, let me in.”

“No, Gladio, please. Just don’t. Go home.”

“I know he’s in there.”

“ _Gladio_!” Noctis rarely used the full depth of his royal alpha voice, but Prompto quivered and gasped on the couch at the sound of it. “For _once_ will you _please_ just do as I ask?”

The sound of stamping feet leading away from the door was all the response he got.

Noctis turned and looked at Prompto. His irises blazed a violent pink. “What a Six-damned mess,” he said again, blinking slowly as the alpha in him, so rarely breaking the surface of his calm exterior, sank back once more.

Prompto crossed the room and swept his hands through Noct’s soft hair, climbing into his lap. “ _Shh, it’s ok_ ,” he crooned. “We’ll figure it out. _It’s ok_. _I love you._ ”

Noct’s pink tinged eyes darted to the door. “I love you too, Prom,” he said, kissing him. When he broke away, he added, “How long d’you think this is gonna go on for?”

Prompto turned to look at the door as well. Eyes anywhere but on his alpha’s face, he said, “I don’t know. Maybe a couple of days?”

“I’m not leaving him.”

The omega smiled. “Me neither. I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading to the end of this one - I hope it wasn't too whumpy or whatever for you... The next update may not be so swift in coming, as I've got other projects over the weekend I need to focus on, but hold on, and be patient, and, well, you know what they say about good things and those who wait? I do believe HMS Gladnis is sighted on the distant horizon... very... distant... horizon... x


	6. Frayed Edges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the immediate aftermath of Ignis' heat, Prompto provides some much-needed omega comfort, and Ignis comes to terms with people knowing what he tried to keep secret for so long. Gladio is still suffering in the wake of Ignis' heat, but Ignis isn't ready to face his best friend just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this yet, but I couldn't resist. Thanks for your comments, and I love hearing what you think about the characters and where it's going. Bit more whump in this one, but some cuddles too. Gladio's still in hell, but it's probably not for the reason Ignis thinks it is...
> 
> Ignis is from Tenebrae originally in this AU. Not a hugely significant fact, but still.

The door creaked open and Ignis blinked groggily. Every muscle hurt, his throat was thick like he’d swallowed fresh cement, and the light hurt his eyes.

He was wet. Everywhere. Slick, and sticky, and disgusting. The air was thick and fusty in the room, and he was cold. Goosebumps rose in a wave across his pale, lean body, and he reached blearily for a sheet or something to cover himself.

And that was when it hit him. This was not his bedroom. This was _Noctis’_ bedroom.

Huge windows stretched almost from floor to ceiling, with black and gold curtains hanging like shrouds around the windows. He froze in horror, eyes roaming the prince’s room, until he realised he was utterly naked, in Noct’s bed, which was alternately slimy and crispy with cum and slick.

“Hey, Ignis,” a gentle voice said from the doorway, and he jumped like a startled chocobo. He’d forgotten about the very reason he’d woken up in the first place.

A soft smile and a rush of sweet scent reassured him right to his bones for an instant, before his fear burned it away. “Prompto?” he gasped, biting his lip.

“Hey, it’s ok. You’re ok. I brought you some tea. Though Noct made it, so I can’t speak for how… _nice_ … it’ll be.”

“That’s very sweet of you both,” Ignis said, his voice forced and the politeness sounding about as out of place as a necromancer at a drinks party. He shivered violently, partly from the cold, but mostly out of pure shame.

“How are you feeling?” Prompto asked, setting the tray down on the bedside table.

Ignis tried to drag the sheet over himself to cover his nakedness, but when it landed on his skin, a patch of it cold and wet and vile, he let out a whine of dismay.

Prompto sat beside him and reached tentatively for his shoulder. “ _Hey… shh… Ignis_ …” he said, his freckled face so perfect and open.

Ignis felt tears sting along the rim of his lashes. “How bad is it, Prompto?” he asked finally.

“Bad?”

“How many people…?” he couldn’t even finish. He pushed himself upright, more exhausted than he could ever remember being after a heat, and hugged his knees to his chest, the sheet still sticking to him, but at least his lower body was covered.

Prompto’s hand landed, warm and delicate, on the curve of his shoulder, and he crooned softly. “They just said after you left that you’d been working so hard to make the evening the best evening possible that you’d run yourself down a bit. No one at the party knows. It’s just me and the other two…”

Ignis felt hope flare in his chest for the first time since he’d collapsed in that dark passageway. “How… how long have I been…?”

“Three days…” Prompto said. “I’ve popped in a couple of times to make sure you drank something and had a bit of soup, but mostly we just left you to it.”

Then, to his abject horror, Ignis saw a couple of his favourite toys tangled up in the blankets, and he kicked his foot to try and cover them with the sheet, as much from his own sight as Prompto’s.

Prompto, however, caught the motion, and said, “Iggy, I _gotta_ know where you got that one from… I _need_ that…”

“I’m not talking sex toys with you, Prompto,” he said flatly, green eyes still locked on the toy.

“Come on, dude,” Prompto grinned, actually launching himself across the bed and picking up the massive, jellied alpha knot dildo and waggling it around. “Look at it! How could you not tell me where you got this from!”

And just like that, Ignis began to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. The sight of Prompto waving his favourite dildo around, without a shred of embarrassment whatsoever, eyes wide and bright, that innocent and yet wicked-at-the-corners grin he had somehow perfected, just tipped him over the edge.

His rich baritone laugh rang around the room, and he threw his head back. Hysterical relief made his body go slack against the stacked pillows behind him, and he lay back, laughing wildly.

Prompto, giggling all the while, set the dildo down again, hopped to a sink in the corner of the room and rinsed his hands, though the toy was dry by now, and returned to the bed. This time, however, he curled up against Ignis’ shoulder, fully clothed, although he had no socks or shoes on. He nuzzled deeply against Ignis’ chest and wrapped an arm around his bare torso, hugging him tightly and purring. “It’s good to hear you laugh, Ignis,” he said.

Ignis finally sighed. “Please, I’m begging you, and I’ll tell you where I got it, if you promise _never_ to repeat what just happened to _anyone_.”

“Omega honour,” he grinned, leaving a chaste kiss on Ignis’ cheek.

Ignis sighed. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Hey, Iggy,” Prompto said after a while.

“I’m not trying that tea, if that’s what you’re going to ask.”

“Already chucked it in the pot-plant while you were busy eyeing that monster cock…” he snorted.

Ignis snickered again. “A great mercy. Thank you.”

“No, what I was gonna say, was… Noct and I have been talking…”

“That sounds ominous,” he said, absentmindedly stroking Prompto’s back with his left arm where it curved around Prompto’s curled figure, holding him gently and keeping him from falling off the bed.

“No, it’s just… Obviously, you are free to be what you want to be in public, but…” he took a huge breath to steady himself, “But you don’t have to hide from us any more. If you don’t want to.” And then he began to ramble. “I mean… I know it’s big coming from me, when everyone in the entire universe knows I’m an omega. I don’t think I could hide it even if I wanted to – I have no idea how you did that by the way. I mean, I know it’s possible, and it’s _you_ we’re talking about, so of course you could hide it, because you’re awesome and the way you stared down that alpha was _incredible_ , but still…”

“Prompto,” Ignis said, squeezing his arm briefly to get him to shut up a second. “Prompto, stop.”

Prompto looked up at his face, worry etched into his sky blue eyes. “I said too much?”

Ignis’ smile wasn’t entirely happy, but it was fond nonetheless. “I… I’m so grateful to you both, for looking after me, and for keeping my secret. I’m sorry I didn’t manage my schedule better. This never should have happened.”

“It’s ok to slip up, Iggy –”

“No, it isn’t. You don’t understand my position, Prompto. I sit on the council now, though as a low ranking member, more to observe than advise at this stage. If any of those old-fashioned, closed-minded, out-dated prigs were to find out the truth…” he sucked in a huge breath and held it. “They would have me removed for sure.”

“But…” Prompto sat up and turned back to stare at him. “But the King knows… Noct told me he knows… so where’s the problem?”

Ignis sighed and looked down at the bundled sheets in his lap. “King Regis has done more for omegas in Lucis in his lifetime than any ruler ever has, and I’m eternally grateful that I came to Lucis as a child. Niflheim is the worst, of course it is, but Tenebrae is not that far behind in its outmoded ideas of an omega’s place in society.” He turned those piercing green eyes to Prompto, hurt and injustice painting them a vivid green without his glasses. “Stereotypes persist. I can think of three powerful members of the King’s council, all from old families with ancient titles and infinite connections throughout the kingdom, who would be _horrified_ at the idea of an advisor to the future king who is an omega.”

“But…”

Ignis shook his head and went on. “Omegas can be overwhelmed by an alpha, they can be controlled, they can be manipulated. Yes, we can train ourselves to become resilient, but even after years of practice, if I’m surprised by an alpha, caught unaware by a tone of voice or a posture or a scent, even I can still become affected. I don’t believe it would affect my ability to advise Noctis, but without my role, without my duty to Noct, I have _nothing_. I _am_ nothing.”

Prompto was silent for a while, mulling Ignis’ words over. “I get it,” he finally said. “At least, I think I do.” He sighed. “Of course, it’s your choice, but…” he looked up hopefully at Ignis. “I’d really like it if…”

Suddenly he looked on the point of tears, and Ignis reached out for him, tilting his chin up as his lip wobbled. “Prompto, what’s wrong?”

Tears dribbled down his face, and he smeared them away with the back of his hand. “I just… I’ve never had an omega that I can… you know… do omega stuff with. I had kinda hoped…” he sniffed. “But… I get it.”

“Oh Prompto,” he said. “I’m sorry. Let me see how I can balance just you three knowing the truth in private, with the persona I have to be in public first, alright?”

The excited hope that dawned on Prompto’s sunny face almost made Ignis croon right then. “O-Ok, thank you,” Prompto said. “I didn’t mean to guilt-trip you into anything though…”

“Prompto, I know you wouldn’t. Subterfuge is far beyond you.”

He grinned.

“Now, I would like a shower, and perhaps some breakfast. Preferably not made by Noctis.”

“Gotcha,” Prompto said, scuttling back off the bed and hopping to his feet. “And if you need any more painkillers, I left some on the table there,” he said, pointing to the ornately-inlaid circular table of Tenebraean handiwork at the foot of the enormous bed. “They’re with your suppressants and blockers. Noct found them when he picked up the other stuff. You have a shower. I’ll deal with the rest of this.”

Ignis closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Thank you, Prompto. You’re so considerate.”

He winked and said, “C’mon, I know what it’s like having a heat without an alpha. That shit hurts…”

Sighing ruefully one more time, Ignis raised his eyebrows. “Indeed.”

Prompto left him and he heard the low chatter of voices from the other side of the door. He could just make out the tone of Noct’s questioning voice, and Prompto’s soothing answer, and was relieved not to hear the deeper bass of Gladio’s. He wondered where the alpha was, and what he was thinking.

Ignis threw the sheet off and carefully swung his legs off the bed, trying to ignore the rush of memories from the night he’d gone into heat. Gladio had found him like that – he screwed his eyes shut in shame – and he’d been so angry.

That frightened Ignis almost more than the idea of his secret being known. He’d lost his best friend because of the lie he’d led him to believe. Of course Gladio hated him now. Gladio wouldn’t admire someone who lied _to his face_. He knew it wouldn’t necessarily be the fact that Ignis was an omega that had pissed him off so much. Gladio was a soldier, and to him, honour carried great weight in his estimation of people. Ignis had behaved with absolute dishonour in lying to him for so long, and he knew he would not be forgiven for such a betrayal of trust.

Snarling, Ignis stood suddenly, gasping at the head-rush and the wave of weakness that washed through him, threatening to send him to the floor in a tangled heap of limbs. Breathing steadily, he paused long enough for the dizziness to pass, snatched up his suppressants and blockers, gobbled them down dry, and began to walk carefully towards Noct’s en-suite.

Luke warm water washed the encrusted filth from his heat off his body, and the strategist leaned his head back, running fingers through his hair, trying to think of his next move. Always ‘ _what’s your next move, Ignis?_ ’ It was exhausting.

Emerging back into Noctis’ bedroom, he picked up the pile of clothes left for him, and dressed into dark indigo jeans and a rather casual white shirt, with a charcoal grey sweater. His hair was wet from the shower still, but he brushed his fingers through it. After a quick look in the gilt mirror on the dressing table, he readied himself to go out into the sitting room where Noctis and Prompto were waiting.

Almost at the door, he changed course and moved to the windows, flinging them wide in a vain attempt to clear the air of the fog of omega heat that surely must pervade every piece of fabric in the room.

Noctis was lounging on the elegant cream and gold sofa which sat with its back to his bedroom door, and he had the controller of his games console in his hand. When the door opened and Ignis stepped sheepishly out, Noct set it down quietly on the table, pausing the game, and looked up at him over his shoulder. “Hey Specs, how you feeling? You want some breakfast?”

Ignis swallowed. It all felt so… _normal_. “Er… Alright, thank you, and yes please, that would be nice.”

Noctis’ smile was bright and broad as a Duscaen sky at midday. “Great. Should be here any moment. I sent down for the kitchens for three lots of scrambled egg, smoked salmon, and white toasted muffins.”

“My favourite,” he breathed. “Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t go flattering yourself,” Noct grinned. “It’s Prom’s favourite too.”

“Nu-uh,” Prompto said, coming out of the small galley kitchen which Ignis usually used to prepare things for the prince on the rare occasion he used his palace apartments these days. He had a glass of water in his hand, and held it out to Ignis. “It’s only my favourite when Iggy makes it.”

Ignis smiled and took the glass, draining it in three seconds flat.

“More?”

“Please.”

He moved to sit down beside Noctis on the sofa, angling his body slightly towards him. “Noct, I…”

Noctis shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything, Specs.”

“I really do,” he protested. “I am ever so grateful that you took care of me the way you did. But I… I am so hideously embarrassed that things got so out of hand. I never should have lost control, and to enter a heat in the middle of your party, without realising it was coming…? Noctis, that’s unforgivable.”

The prince’s lips curled gently into a smile and he reached out with a hand to take Ignis’ shoulder. “Iggy, if anything, it’s me who should be apologising. I should have taken more responsibility for the party. You shouldn’t have had to do so much on your own that you lost track of your own life. Nothing is as important as your health, Ignis. Nothing.” He stared at him, those sapphire eyes clear and blazing with emotion. It was rare to see the usually apathetic alpha so riled. “Not even me. Without you…” he broke off, shaking his head, his soft hair falling into his eyes, buffering their intensity for just a moment. “I can’t do this without you.” He bit his lip. “I’m gonna make sure you have everything you need from now on, ok? And if you need me to do more stuff, you tell me.”

Ignis looked at the prince a long time before answering. Pride swelled in his chest as he gazed at the man he was growing up to be. Finally he nodded once. “Very well. I will pass some of my duties on to you.”

Prompto returned with more water, and flopped into a nearby armchair.

“ _Back_ to me, don’t you mean?” Noctis snorted. Ignis smirked in response as he drank the second glass more slowly, but there was a knock at the door and Noctis called out, “Who is it?”

A servant replied that he had their breakfast, and he was admitted.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, sitting at the small, round table, the piping hot eggs cooked to perfection, the Wennath salmon succulent and smoky, cracked black pepper crumbled on top… Ignis found comfort in focusing on the small things again.

Eventually it was over and he stood and cleared the plates, grateful that the other two let him. Drawing a deep breath, he turned to them once they were washed up and draining in the kitchen. “Listen, I’m going to return to my usual duties and pretend, to all intents and purposes, that this never happened.”

“You still have the rest of the day off,” Noct said guiltily. “You can start tomorrow…”

Smiling, Ignis bowed his head. “I am grateful that you have been as kind to me as you have, but for now, I would appreciate it if we could all behave as we did before. At least to begin with.”

He tried hard to ignore the way Prompto’s shoulders slumped.

“Sure, Specs,” Noctis said, nuzzling his shoulder against Prompto’s for a moment. “But I should warn you that Gladio is really pissed.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“He found me, remember?”

Noctis nodded. “Sure. But he hasn’t spoken to anyone, he won’t talk to us since we told him not to come back here that first night, and he’s put four people in the infirmary during training sessions… Didn’t mean to, of course, but…”

Ignis’ brows shot up. “It’s not like Gladio to hurt people,” he said. “He hasn’t lost control since he first presented.” He shuddered at the memory of a thirteen year old Gladio, a raging mess of hormones, punching his hand through the plaster of the wall, unstoppable in his rage until his father had grabbed him by the collar, bashed him against the same wall, and shouted at him in his strongest _alpha_ voice to calm down and get control of himself.

“His presentation was rough?” Prompto asked, looking from Noctis to Ignis and back.

Noct put his hand on Prompto’s thigh. “He presented way young…”

“How old was he?” Prompto asked.

“Thirteen,” Ignis said.

“Thirteen?” Prompto breathed. “No way. I didn’t think alphas _ever_ presented that young. Gods, that must have been so painful for him.”

“It was excruciating,” Ignis said, folding his arms. “His father was at his wit’s end until Gladio managed to get on some medication to regulate his hormones for a while. He put on muscle so quickly that his bones couldn’t support it all, it was awful. But he eventually grew into his body, and his hormones levelled out.” He uncrossed his arms and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans just for something to do. “He rarely loses control these days. He can’t afford to, being so strong.”

Sadness tweaked at Ignis’ heart then, but that friendship was gone now. He’d ruined it.

“You ok?”

He looked up and saw two pairs of blue eyes staring at him. “No, Noct, not quite. But I believe I will be.” He smiled, and left the room.

Walking through the corridors of the palace to the main entrance, he fully expected to be accosted, treated with derision and hostility, but people either ignored him, or nodded politely as he passed.

It wasn’t until he reached the courtyard outside and saw Glaives and Crownsguards that his stomach truly lurched.

Among them was the unmistakable figure of Gladio. Still distant, Gladio was talking with a number of Glaives Ignis recognised as a tight-knit group of friends from Galahd. One of them said something, a joke perhaps, but Gladio shoved him roughly aside and left, storming away towards the barracks without looking back. They watched him go, Crowe shaking her head and sighing visibly.

Ignis swallowed nervously and headed for the parking lot to retrieve his car and drive home. He would spend his final ‘sick day’ sorting through the inevitable backlog of emails and tasks, preparing as best he could for returning to work properly the next day.

The sight of Gladio nearly toppling another to the ground had shocked him. Of course, the Glaive didn’t fall, but still, the prince’s Shield was always careful of his strength, knowing how easy it was to hurt someone without meaning to. But Ignis knew he just couldn’t face him yet. The shame of his lies was too sharp in his chest.

He slid into his Crown-owned car and drove slowly towards a back exit of the citadel. When he got to the gates, he nearly slammed his foot on the brake. Gladio was there, taking a moment of privacy to himself, leaning up against the wall, eyes locked on the clouds scudding past. His jaw was clenched tight, his fists balled at his sides.

He recognised Ignis’ vehicle as it approached the exit, and pushed himself off the wall.

Ignis watched his lips sculpt his name, but he couldn’t hear with the windows down. The radio transmitter in his car opened the gates for him without the need for him to get out, and, shaking his head as Gladio pressed his hands against the side of the slow-moving car, he just kept driving.


	7. Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of Ignis' departure, Prompto steps in to help both Noctis and Ignis as best he can. Ignis, proud and frightened, continues to ignore Gladio as best he can, throwing himself back into work as Noctis takes a more active role in the Citadel. This causes some tension, and results in Ignis stepping back and heading to a local bar in search of a drink and somewhere to think things over. Unfortunately, he finds himself with more than he bargained for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you who left nice comments, and encouraged me to keep going with your enthusiastic support. Things will get exciting in the next chapter, but as life is inevitably busy, and inspiration a rare and fleeting thing, I cannot guarantee how frequently I will be updating this. Your support and comments, however, make it worthwhile. Thank you - I cannot believe the amount of kudos and comments this story has received so far. *hugs*

Noctis watched the door close and exhaled.

The scent of Ignis’ heat still rolled around his apartment, and he turned to face Prompto. While he’d not wanted _Ignis_ specifically, the scent of an omega in full heat had been trying on his self-control. Sure, he and Prompto had rutted it out a few times on the sofa while Ignis was lost in his haze of lust next door, but somehow it had felt wrong, and he’d not fully relaxed.

Now, Prompto’s scent spiked too, sweet and deep and rich, and Noctis flew at his neck, kissing and nipping at the scent gland where nearly two years earlier, Noctis had almost bitten him, claimed him, during his very first rut. Prompto had been only too happy to accept the mating mark, even if they were perhaps a little young, but as much as Noctis had wanted to bond with Prompto, he’d felt awful about not asking him first, and had just restrained himself in time. It had been close, and Noctis had plans now, not that Prompto knew any of them. All that seemed like so long ago, as they tangled themselves together on the sofa.

“Mmm, Prom,” he grunted a while later as Prompto moved his hands and lips down Noct’s naked torso. “Can we move this to a bed now please?”

Prompto’s head jerked up and he burst out laughing. “Oh man, no. You do not wanna go in there yet. I haven’t sorted it. It’s…”

“Oh,” Noctis panted, “Yeah. Forgot. You’re good at distracting me.”

Prompto laughed again and grinned wickedly. “You know, I bet you’d never guess the kind of toys he’s got.”

“I…” Noct looked down at him, his eyes still hazed with lust. “I kinda don’t wanna think about Iggy that way.” After a raised eyebrow from Prompto, he added, “Ok fine. What’s he got?”

Prompto described the ones he’d found on the top of the bed, the only two Ignis seemed to have used, and Noct’s lust deepened with a rich billow of his scent.

Noct growled. “You want one, don’t you?” he added as Prompto whipped his top up over his head and stood up to get to work on his black skinny jeans. “You _do_!” he snarled, grabbing Prompto by the hips and yanking him closer, ripping his boxers down his legs and springing him free. Prompto swung a slender leg up so that he came to rest on the sofa again with one knee on either side of Noct’s face, and the prince’s hands moved to clutch his hips again.

Being taken into the urgent heat of Noct’s mouth without any warning or warm up made Prompto’s knees wobble and he gripped Noct’s shoulders, leaning forward over him for support and keening loudly.

Noctis released him suddenly with a pop that made Prompto whine again, and looked up at him, dark blue eyes burning. “Am I not enough for you?”

Grinning, Prompto managed to surface from his daze long enough to hiss, “You can’t be there _all_ the time, Noct… Anyway, could be fun…”

Noctis let out a deep, throaty growl and took Prompto in his mouth once more, fingers trailing behind to the cleft in Prompto’s ass.

When they were finally done, Prompto was full, and almost sore, and Noctis was exhausted. He didn’t have the stamina to keep going for hours, his lovemaking an intense, searing heat that burned through quickly. It suited Prompto most of the time, though the omega bounced back quickly and was often ready for another round while Noctis lay spent and dozing.

Prompto extricated himself from his alpha, smiling, and disappeared to fetch a hot wash cloth to clean him off before covering him with a blanket from a little linen cupboard in one corner of the apartments. He kissed all the way down Noct’s torso, his chest slowly rising and falling, his scent rolling off him in deeply contented waves, enough to make Prompto almost drunk. _He_ had done that for his alpha. Sure, they weren’t bonded, but they might as well have been for how close Prompto was to him. He truly was beautiful, with his dark hair and flawless skin, those long lashes fluttering softly every now and again, and his pink lips softly parted. The weight of the crystal was beginning to make itself known to him now, even if his father still bore the brunt of the cost of maintaining Insomnia’s Wall, and the magic of the Glaives.

Then, with a deep breath, he rose, and set about sorting Noct’s room in the aftermath of Ignis’ heat.

Mercifully Ignis had indeed only used two of the box of toys that sat half nudged under the bed. It was a mark of how much Prompto liked Ignis that he was prepared to do this for him, and to weather the inevitable storm of embarrassment that it was likely to produce in Ignis. He used a tissue to take the toys to the sink, and it didn’t take long to get them clean.

The bed was stripped and the linen tied up in a bag. The palace had an incinerator, but he half considered asking Noctis to go to a remote corner of the gardens and blast them with a fira or something, but that might attract attention to say the least. Once it was all safely tied up in the bag to contain the scent as best as possible, Prompto took it down to the incinerator himself. Everyone in the palace knew who he was, and they seemed to love him for his easy smiles and kind manners. Anyone he passed nodded politely, raised hands, smiled, grinned, and he smiled sweetly back as best he could, with the knowledge of what he held in his hands. If his awkward clumsiness warmed them to him as well, he wasn’t about to complain, and as he pushed the door open, he saw that someone was in there.

He didn’t recognise the palace servant, but they clearly knew who he was, and bobbed a head respectfully to the prince’s omega. So much for their secrecy. “Prompto,” he said, “How can I help you?”

“I need these to go straight in there,” he said, nodding at the furnace. “Like, right now… if you follow me…”

The servant laughed and turned the machine down enough to open the door to the loading chamber safely. “Pop them in.”

“Thanks,” he said. If there was a heat in his cheeks, it was easily blamed on the fire.

Back up in the prince’s apartments, he caught the subtle sweetness of a heat on the air just outside, but it was not really enough to identify it as the advisor’s any more, he hoped. The scent of more recent activities also wafted out. The two Crownsguards on duty on the doors outside Noct’s apartment certainly stared at _him_ with an uncomfortable intensity anyway.

He shivered, and pushed the door open.

Noctis was still fast asleep on the sofa, the blanket half slithering off his body now, one arm thrown up above his head, the other dangling artistically off the elegant sofa. His naked shoulders were pale as marble, and he was so beautiful and soft in sleep that he could have been an omega for all his sweet, gentle lines. The curve of his lips was just enough to make him look younger, untroubled by the weight of the crystal that hung over him, and by the force of the responsibilities bearing down on him.

Noct’s phone buzzed, and Prompto glanced at it. Ignis. The message preview was enough to make Prompto’s stomach drop. _I realise I departed in a hurry and left that box behind…_ There were other messages too, Prompto saw. The world outside was already intruding on theirs.

Prompto woke his prince with a kiss and a nuzzle, crooning and nosing at his scent glands until Noctis stirred. “Mwhat?” he mumbled.

“Time to get up. First day of being eighteen after all…” Prompto grinned. “Plus, Iggy just messaged you.”

 

***

 

Avoiding Gladio was surprisingly easy for Ignis that week.

He could not avoid Noctis, and that meant Prompto too, but for the most part he _could_ avoid Gladio. The prince’s shield attended council meetings, but only as a guard, standing at the side of the room, hands clasped behind his back, staring straight ahead as though he were the only person in the room. Ignis did not look at him.

Once meetings were over, Regis and his high council would leave, followed by Noctis. Ignis would deliberately wait behind, and Gladio, having no choice but to follow his prince, would leave with them. It was an uneasy arrangement, but for now, it worked. How long Noctis would keep playing his game for him, Ignis couldn’t be sure.

He had asked Cor to take over his training sessions from Gladio, claiming it was prudent to face different fighting styles. The marshal had been only too happy to oblige, enjoying teaching a pupil who, in his words, didn’t ‘mouth off the whole time’ like Gladio did.

He knew it was wrong and utterly puerile, and that he would eventually have to talk to him, but, well, for now, he would continue his childish game. He still woke sweating at three in the morning, Gladio’s scent in his nostrils, and that awful thunder in Gladio’s eyes playing across his mind. He knew his eyes hadn’t really been glowing in the dark of the corridor, burning like embers under a soft breath, but the more he dreamed it, the worse it got, and Ignis had always had a vivid imagination, and an active mind even when asleep.

He just wasn’t ready to face Gladio, pure and simple. Not yet. Every time he thought of talking to the alpha, his best friend until only a week ago, he felt that visceral anger like a blow to the stomach, and he balked. He remembered his childhood in Tenebrae, and though the way alphas treated omegas there was not the same as in Lucis, that deeply-ingrained fear manifested itself and a rush of pure panic surged at the thought of Gladio rejecting him because of what he was. He _knew_ he was doing Gladio a disservice by even entertaining the idea – at least he _hoped_ Gladio was different – but he just had to remember the rage in those burning golden eyes to convince himself that talking to Gladio could not end well.

Instead, he threw himself fully into his work, and since the prince had now left school, Noctis was more involved than ever in Royal duties. Prompto had begun his photography course at college, which left Noctis otherwise unoccupied during the days.

Noctis attended every council meeting; he met with his father to discuss the tense relationship with Niflheim, as well as a number of other issues, from things as dull yet vital as tax reforms to those issues he seemed to hold dearer, such as environmental laws concerning parks and nature reserves within Insomnia.

In short, he did Ignis proud.

That didn’t mean that Ignis had less to occupy him. On the contrary, he had as much, if not more, to concern him. He and Noctis drafted endless proposals and reports, and by the end of the second week since what he now referred to as the ‘incident’, they had slotted neatly into the beginnings of a smoothly-operating team.

Prompto found his place in it all too. In true omega style, he cared for them by providing food and drink when they were holed up in Noctis’ study until late at night, and forcing them to stop when their ‘discussions’ bordered on treasonous accusations on Ignis’ part, and outright absolute monarchy from Noctis. Only once did it come to blows, but it was Noctis who slammed his fist down on the desk hard enough to send all the pens rattling and rolling.

“Noctis!” Ignis barked. “That desk belonged to your mother! Treat _it_ at least with more respect, if not me.”

Noctis pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve been at this for hours. I can’t see how we’re going to make this work. If we tax them too heavily, we’ll lose the support of an entire section of the city, but if we don’t, I don’t know where we’ll get the money from to support the refugee scheme. It’s just not possible!”

“We will think of something. Your father entrusted this to you for a reason.”

“Fuck it,” Noct roared, standing and scattering stationary and even a water glass everywhere. “Fuck it. I can’t do it. It’s pointless. He has ministers to help him with it.”

“Oh sure,” Ignis sneered sarcastically, “Hand it off to someone else when it gets difficult. I’m sure someone will pick up the slack for you.”

“Guys?” Prompto stuck his head in, his beautiful scent rippling out around them, “Guys, this isn’t helping anything.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Noctis snorted, flouncing from the room. “I’m just not cut out for it. My parents should have had another child.”

Ignis watched him go and sighed, his blood pressure returning to normal as Noct’s alpha influence retreated with him. He’d been doing so well. He inhaled deeply through his nose. Noctis was doing a fantastic job, and Regis, Clarus, Cor, the whole council, had all noticed. Ignis pushed himself to his feet and tidied up the room before he followed Noctis out into the sitting room of his apartment.

The prince still kept his place in the city, despite his increased role at the citadel. It was his oasis. And Ignis felt guilty for pushing tax reform on him here. He caught Noct’s thunderous stare as he reappeared, but before the prince could make some snappy remark about finding someone better, Ignis said, “Noct, might I just say one last word about that?”

“Whatever,” he said, firing up the console and slumping down on the couch. “Doubt I could stop you anyway.”

Ignis smiled. If the gesture was tired and a little blurred around the edges, it still managed to carry real heart. “I don’t doubt you _could_ stop me, Noctis. But what I want to say is that I’m proud of you. Since coming of age, you have really risen to the challenge of government and rule, and I have heard many people congratulating you on your achievements with the refugee effort already.”

Noctis blinked and stared at him, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The waning _alpha_ frustration in the atmosphere showed the effect of Ignis’ praise.

“Niflheim’s actions on our borders have created a crisis such as Lucis has not seen in centuries, and you and the council are doing great work. You should be proud of yourself.” He moved his hand to his heart and added, “I’m proud, and I’m also sorry. I get carried away with my work sometimes. You deserve some downtime.”

He crossed the room to where his coat was draped over the back of a chair. The plates from dinner were washed up, he noted, and he smiled at Prompto when the omega saw him eyeing them. The _other_ omega, he reminded himself.  He did not have to hide away so much here with these two.

“Prompto, see to it that Noctis enjoys what remains of his evening. I take my leave.”

And he moved to the doorway. As he slid his shoes on, he heard the padding of soft, bare feet on the hardwood, and looked up to see Noctis running his fingers through his dark hair. His dark blue eyes were as big and innocent as they had been when he had been a boy, and he looked at Ignis with a reverence and respect that made Ignis’ heart pound.

Gone was the combative tension in his beautiful features, to be replaced with a soft kind of trust. “Uh… I just wanted to thank you. I’m sorry I yelled at you. You didn’t have to stay to hash through all that with me tonight…” He shuffled his weight and leaned on the doorway at the end of the hall. “So… Um… You talk to Gladio yet?”

Ignis felt his face darken.

“Take that as a no. Look, I know it’s not my place –”

“Then leave it to me,” he interjected.

“But,” Noctis persisted, “He’s been asking me and Prom, like every day, how you’re doing, if he can come over when you’re here… I keep telling him you asked me to help give you some space from him, but I can’t do it much longer, Specs. I need you guys to be on the same team here…”

Ignis adjusted his glasses. “We _are_ on the same team, Noct. I just need a little more time.”

“I don’t understand,” Noctis began, but Prompto appeared from behind him and slid his hands around Noct’s slim waist and whined softly. He, at least, seemed to realise Ignis’ difficulty, even if he too wanted Ignis to talk to Gladio.

“I’ll talk to him once this week is over,” Ignis conceded. “Happy?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Specs. Have a good evening, yeah?”

“And you.” Ignis smiled, nodded, and left them to it.

Of all the things he’d had to do as an omega, of all the things he had endured and faced since presenting, looking Gladio in the eye after all this would undoubtedly be the hardest.

It was only nine o’clock, but Ignis was tired. Not the sleepy kind of tired though. His mind buzzed, and he thought vaguely of taking a walk once he’d dropped off his briefcase and perhaps changed out of his suit.

Contrary to popular opinion, Ignis Scientia did own clothes that were not matching three piece suits, and, if he said so himself, he had an equally immaculate and stylish collection of casual clothes. Not that he had much opportunity to wear them, often returning from the palace at this time of night, or later, and collapsing into pyjamas, only to begin the cycle again at five the next morning. It was a punishing routine for anyone, but for an omega, it was ill-advised to say the least. No wonder he’d come so close to slipping up so many times in the past. His body just wasn’t designed for long periods of intense strain.

 

***

 

“You’re dead!” Noct bellowed, “You’re so dead!”

“Nooooo!” Prompto wailed as his character was obliterated in a plume of pink mist. “Curse you!” he giggled, nuzzling his nose into the curve of Noct’s neck and kissing him playfully while the game reloaded.

The phone on the table rang and Noct frowned, pausing the game and leaning forward. “It’s Gladio,” he said, clearly puzzled. “He never calls me.”

“Pick it up then, dumbo,” Prompto said, jabbing him in the ribs and pausing the game.

Noct hit the answer icon and pressed it to his ear. “Yeah?”

“Is Ignis with you?” he asked without preamble.

Noctis sighed. “No. He left about half an hour ago.”

“Where was he going? Home?”

“Yeah.”

“Noct, I gotta talk to him. I know he asked you to keep out of it, but I don’t understand what I did to make him hate me.”

“I know. He… I think… I think he’s embarrassed… He doesn’t hate you.”

“Yeah, I figured he would be embarrassed, but I don’t get it. He think I’m gonna change my opinion of him or something?”

“I honestly couldn’t say, Gladio,” he sighed. “Look, I don’t know how good an idea going to his house is, but if you do, go easy on him, yeah?”

Gladio’s growl was cut off as he hung up.

Prompto stroked Noct’s hair at the nape of his neck. “I guess he didn’t take that very well…”

“Yeah.”

“I hope Iggy can open up to him again…”

“Is it because Gladio’s an alpha?” Noctis asked. “Is it because he saw him in heat? Is that it?”

Prompto shrugged. “We’re not all the same,” he said carefully. “Iggy’s made it a point to hide what he is… When we were talking in the dry cleaner’s, he seemed really afraid of people knowing. At least, he smelled afraid. Losing track of his cycle like that… maybe it’s a control thing? Maybe he’s afraid of losing control?” He shrugged again and reached for the controller, unpausing the game and launching a fireball at Noct’s character.

“Cheat!” Noct yelled, shoving him hard enough to send him sprawling along the sofa, but not hard enough to hurt.

Laughing, the resumed their game and all thoughts of Ignis were pushed from their minds.

 

***

 

Changing from his work clothes, Ignis headed out into Insomnia in search of a bar where he could get a drink and lose himself in a quiet corner for a while. Perhaps as a reaction to the events at Noct’s birthday, he had upped his dosage of blockers – still within safe limits, if only just – so he knew he was in little danger of being marked as an omega that night.

He stalked past the dry cleaner’s where it had all begun, and rounded the next corner, approaching a stylish place by the name of Steel and Slate. It was a bar-restaurant that had had excellent reviews in all the Insomnian culinary magazines and blogs, and he was not disappointed by its sleek exterior: enormous plate glass windows set in painted, charcoal grey wooden frames. Inside, dark hardwood floors stretched to the restaurant at the back, while a bar section occupied the front of the premises. Low, warm laps hung from the ceiling and created a friendly, close atmosphere.

The old-fashioned bar had apparently been saved from an old pub in Galahd and shipped over, and it stood proudly on the left as he pushed the door open. An inviting row of leather banquettes lured him quietly with the promise of an undisturbed evening alone, while round scrubbed wooden tables dotted the intervening space. It was pleasantly full, and he wove quietly through the patrons to order a drink at the bar.

The barman, an even-tempered beta by the looks of him, smiled openly at Ignis as he approached. “What can I get you?”

“Cognac,” he said. “What have you got to recommend?”

The beta arched an eyebrow and smiled. “A man with taste,” he chuckled, handing him a bar menu. “Here’s what we have.”

“But I asked what you’d recommend,” Ignis returned playfully.

“That you did,” he said. “Well, I’d personally say the Tenebraen High Orchard, but the Altissians actually know what they’re doing when it comes to a cognac, though their Leviathan 16yr Single Malt is even better…”

Ignis smiled and chose his usual favourite, a less well known Tenebraean, and took his glass to a secluded corner. He’d been meaning to sit down and work out some recipe ideas for things to cook for Noctis and Prompto as a more special treat. It had been almost a fortnight since his lapse in… _sanity_ … and he owed Noctis a better birthday treat than taking care of a writhing omega. Of course, he knew he ought to include Gladio in these plans, but, well, he had to scrape together the courage and dignity to speak to him first. That was a problem for another night.

Forty minutes later, and much to his surprise, the barman was walking over to his corner.

Ignis raised a curious eyebrow, setting down the notebook he was scribbling in without speaking. It always made him nervous when strangers approached him in public, thinking perhaps he had slipped up and they had caught a whiff of something more enticing than a beta would put out, but the man surprised him by setting a new glass of the same down in front of him.

“The fellow over there asked me to bring you another of whatever you were drinking. He said he’d hoped to see you around here again.” The barman was grinning and walking away before Ignis could process what he’d said.

He raised his eyes and locked gazes with a man who was clearly an alpha. But it wasn’t that which sent the rush of fear through Ignis.

As the solitary alpha raised his lip in a snarl that showed off his sharp alpha teeth, Ignis realised he was gazing straight into the eyes of the traffic cop who had given Prompto and him such grief the night of the party.


	8. Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longer and angstier (big time angst), with a healthy dose of fluff. I'm going to say that right off the bat there's a description of assault, and some of the resulting aftermath too. 
> 
> Ignis encounters the alpha from before, who's determined to have his way with the sassy omega that embarrassed him. Except Ignis isn't going down without a fight. Once it's all over, he returns to his apartment, and the shock sets in. The last person he wants to see turns up shortly afterwards, but it might just be the very thing he's needed all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your continuing support on this story. I've had a couple of anons on Tumblr saying one or two rude/pushy things about not posting quickly enough (! which I find funny since this is possibly the quickest I've ever updated any story!) and some other more general, shitty things about ABO, which I've actually just ignored as I'm not in the business of giving people air-time who are just rude. Having the majority of comments on here be super enthusiastic and kind and supportive has been really nice, so thank you. I write first and foremost for myself, for free, and also for the lovely people like my nice commenters here who actually appreciate how long it takes to write something, regardless of content or quality... 
> 
> After this I'm not sure how frequently I'll be able to update. I worked my butt off to get this chapter done for you today, with some help from @tinycactus-tinyllama (bless you darling, I couldn't do this without you), and I really hope you like it, but I have other things I need to focus on for a while, including NaNo, and actual work so that I have some actual money. Writing takes a long-ass time, and this story is now at 29,449 words long. I have BIG PLANS for this story, including badass Prompto doing his DLC type stuff, beta Ravus and alpha Aranea, some more stuff about Regis, Aulea, Clarus, and his wife, domestic Gladnis fluff, and some Promptis too. I want this story to have a really big scope, in terms of geography and years, and I might make it a series so that those who want Gladnis can stick with this, and those who like Promptis can follow their story, and still more who want Ravnea or whatever their ship name is can have that. 
> 
> Til then, here is Chapter Eight, and thanks again for being so nice to me.

Ignis shot to his feet, jogging the table, and slopping the cognac, untasted, all over the wood.

He grabbed his small journal, stuffing it into his trouser pocket, and left without another thought. Trouble was the last thing he wanted, especially since he was a crown employee, an omega, and in public. A brawl would bring disrepute on the Crown, and on Noctis, and on himself. He was confident that his anger and fear alone would be enough to manage the alpha, as it had before, but he had after all trained against alphas his whole life. He was confident he could handle this one.

Turning left out of the bar, he strode along the street, not daring to look back. It was the end of summer, and the nights were just beginning to show the first nip of autumn. Despite this, a slight sheen of sweat began to stipple his brow, dampening the back of his neck.

He thought he’d got away cleanly until he heard running feet race around the corner and was grabbed from behind. Yanked violently off balance, before he could protest, a wash of alpha compulsion hit him like a raging behemoth and he felt his knees go weak. But he’d been trained for this.

He knew he had to break away, to distance his mind from the creature that was growling filth in his ear in a deep, resonant _alpha_ voice. “ _You won’t get away from me easy this time, bitch_ ,” he laughed. “ _Shame your pretty friend isn’t here too, but_ _I’m still gonna make you my little bitch for the evening. I’ll have to have enough fun with you for two omegas.”_ He licked up the shell of Ignis’ ear and as he caught the soft skin with an alpha tooth, a thrill of hatred shot through him. _“Let’s see how clever that mouth of yours is when you’re covered in my scent, in my come, yeah?_ ”

Dimly in the back of his mind, something told him he’d weathered worse, though _never_ of a sexual nature, in his training. It was the same principle though. He had to break the alpha’s hold on his mind.

There were hands on his hair, yanking his head to one side to expose his throat, and suddenly the alpha was rubbing his scent gland against Ignis’ neck.

He was _marking_ him.

At the insult, an act so intrusive and personal, Ignis’ mind snapped back with startling and horrifying clarity, and he twisted, his powerful abdominal muscles working like a released spring, and brought his elbow arcing up behind him to crack into the alpha’s temple.

He was released instantly, the alpha clearly surprised by the omega’s ability to resist him. Without pausing, Ignis brought his knee up and rammed it into the alpha’s groin,  his hands gripping the man’s shoulders to keep him steady to take the impact. “Get _off_ me, you vile animal,” he snarled as the alpha doubled over.

“You _bitch_ ,” he croaked, lunging for him, biting down his pain in favour of anger. “You’re a _fucking omega_! _Act like one_!”

Rage made Ignis’ mind go almost blank.

He flew at the alpha, driving him back into the wall with his strong forearm right across the alpha’s windpipe. He collided with the brickwork, and Ignis pinned him there, one knee back at his sensitive groin again for good measure. “ _You will never treat an omega like this again, do you hear me?_ ” he spat, right in his face, his scent thick and caustic.

It was perfectly obvious that the alpha had only ever heard omega voices used to beg and plead and perhaps to croon, because the sound of Ignis, using the full vocal range of an absolutely irate omega, had the same effect as hearing a saw inch through polystyrene.

“ _You will **never** do this again. You are filth. You are utter, worthless filth._ ” He let go of the alpha and took a step back.

Unsurprisingly, the alpha came at him again, but somewhat half-heartedly, and Ignis lashed out with a vicious side kick, his leg moving like a piston so that his foot caught him straight in the stomach and sent the alpha reeling back into the wall, where he cracked his head on the stonework, and crumpled to the pavement.

Staring down at him, Ignis’ breathing came in short, shallow pants. That vile, cloying stench clung to every fibre of his clothing, and his skin crawled with it. It was like the alpha was still inside his head. Stumbling sideways as adrenaline mingled with fear, curdling in his veins, Ignis made it halfway along the street before doubling over and vomiting the contents of his stomach into the gutter.

He walked home in a daze.

The memory of the man’s coarse stubble raking across his skin made him want to heave again, the sharp prick and drag of alpha teeth haunted him, flashing through his mind with horrifying regularity, and when he made it to his apartment, he staggered to a halt outside his door. It had been years since he’d been tested to that extent. The realisation that, had the alpha acted even more quickly, he could have bitten him, _bonded_ him, made Ignis want to throw up all over again. Much as it galled him, he might have to request extra training after this.

Ignis’ hands shook so badly he dropped the keys, but he managed on the second attempt to get the door open, slamming it behind him and leaning against the cool wood.

And then Ignis began to shake all over.

It had always been like this. He had spoken to his uncle and requested training in resisting alpha compulsion almost as soon as he had recovered from presenting, and while he had grown _much_ better at it, to the point that he could withstand a very powerful alpha’s influence, the aftereffects never eased.

Making his way to the kitchen, he grabbed a glass of water and washed out the taste of sick and fear as best he could. His breathing was still erratic, but it was beginning to settle a little.

He clawed at his neck where the alpha had left his disgusting scent, and felt tears springing hot to his eyes. “Dammit,” he hissed, fighting back hysteria.

And in the moments he took to try and still his racing mind, he heard a knock at the door, which set everything off again. “Iggy? Iggy, you in? It’s me.”

“Gladio,” he breathed, clapping a quivering hand over his mouth. “Oh gods, no.”

“Iggy _please_. Open up. I gotta talk to you.”

“Now’s not a good time, Gladio,” he said, forcing his voice to come out steady. At least, he hoped it carried that way to Gladio. To his own ears it sounded fragile as a dry reed, and just as easily broken.

“You ok?”

Under the weight of the question, the innocence of its delivery, Ignis cracked. He suddenly found he couldn’t bear to be alone with this. Not after everything. He stepped to the door and opened it, teetering on the brink of tears, struggling visibly to keep control of himself, muscles still shaking.

Standing there in his black tank and dark jeans, Gladio looked more beautiful than Ignis could ever seem to remember seeing him. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, with sections falling down into his eyes and curling around his neck, his usual stubbly beard outlining his jaw and chin perfectly.

Gladio’s face when he saw Ignis, however, went from mildly frustrated to wide-eyed terror in a heartbeat. “Iggy, what happened?” he asked, taking one look at Ignis’ face and stepping in, embracing him apparently without a second thought.

Wrapped up in Gladio’s warmth, feeling nothing but concern from his best friend swirling around him, Ignis began to cry. It was all just too much. Too many emotions in quick succession. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. He made no move to hold Gladio in return, hands hanging limply at his sides. “I’m so sorry. I was so stupid. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Gladio said, stroking his hair, leaning his own body back slightly so he could look at Ignis. “Hey, what happened?”

He couldn’t stop the torrent of words. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Ignis went on, head bowed, unable to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Ignis no longer noticed the way his whole body shook still, nor did he realise that Gladio had reached behind and nudged the door closed. He didn’t notice either that Gladio was leading him out of the hallway and into his modest little sitting area.

“Please don’t be angry with me any more. Please, I can’t bear it.” He turned his face away from Gladio, and in that moment, Gladio stopped dead.

His nostrils flared as he caught that foreign, alien scent on Ignis, and his eyes, burning like hot coals, sank to Ignis’ neck. “Ignis,” he said, his voice calm in a way that only someone with military training could be in a crisis. “Ignis, what happened to you?”

“Please don’t be angry…”

The huge alpha’s shoulders softened, slumped, and he steered Ignis onto his couch. Kneeling beside him, slightly off to one side, Gladio was clearly battling some fierce emotions inside him, but he maintained a steady voice as he said, “Ignis, I’m not angry with you.”

“You’re not?” he gasped. “But… I saw your face… when I…” He turned his face away, shame painting his cheeks a furious red, fists clenching in his lap.

Gladio was silent for a moment or two. “Ignis,” he said, that voice still deep, and steady as a boulder. “Ignis, I wasn’t angry with you. Not really. I’ll tell you why I was so pissed off that night if you tell me what the hell happened to you and why you stink of alpha.” His voice, barely containing the full flood of emotions, quavered a little at the end.

It was that intensity, that sweet embrace in his tone, that convinced Ignis to start talking.

Without looking at him, Ignis began to tell him about the traffic cop from the night of Noct’s birthday, carefully avoiding any talk of impending heats or even of his own scent, and then he spoke of the chance meeting that night, and the alpha’s surprise ‘gift’ in the bar. “I left, but he followed me. I got him off me. I was so angry. But… he was quicker than I’d anticipated. He’d already…” Ignis shuddered and his fingers fluttered over his scent gland without touching it.

Anger rolled off Gladio again before he was able to contain it. “Iggy, you did nothing wrong. You know that, right?”

He nodded hesitantly. “I… I’m just shaken, that’s all. And tired. I’m tired.”

“You should take a bath,” he said. “I’m gonna run you a bath. Ok?”

Ignis nodded. “Not too hot.”

It was only when he was left alone that Gladio’s words began to sink in. _I’m not angry with you… I wasn’t angry with you._ Hope flared and he took a deep breath. It brought with it the putrid stench of alpha possession, and his stomach heaved, but Gladio’s words went a little way to calming the shivering in his muscles.

When Gladio emerged a while later, he moved so quietly in Ignis’ apartment. He was so big, but he was lean, all solid muscle and careful control. How many times had Ignis stolen longing glances at him on evenings with Noctis and Prompto? How many times had he forced himself to rein his first instincts in, because if he didn’t, he’d slick himself just thinking about how beautiful Gladio was? How many times had he lied to Gladio, if not outright then through omission? And yet Gladio was still here, behaving as though it made no difference to him what Ignis’ dynamic was at all.

Perhaps it didn’t. _Perhaps_.

Ignis steeled himself to look up at Gladio, and almost wished he hadn’t. His best friend was so gods-damned gentle it made him want to cry all over again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Half laughing, half sighing, Gladio said, “I’m not gonna sugar coat it for ya: it hurt. It really fucking hurt.”

Ignis winced and looked away.

“But I get why you did. At least I think I do.”

A little frown creased Ignis’ brow, and then he cocked a questioning eyebrow skywards.

Gladio laughed and held out his hand. “Ok, I don’t get it at all, but you can tell me when you’ve cleaned up a bit, ok?”

He was making a monstrous effort to get past his own hurt, just to ease Ignis’ pain. It was enough to make Ignis’ lip tremble all over again. _This_ is what an alpha should be like. No desire to crush and control. Only to protect. Gladio’s instinct to protect ran deep as his bones, and it came before all else. 

Gladio paused as Ignis slid his cold hand into Gladio’s warm palm, and added, “I know what you’re gonna say, but I gotta ask anyway…” He waited for Ignis to look him in the eye, even if it was only fleeting. “That was assault, what he did to you. You wanna press charges?”

Ignis shook his head. “I can’t. I’m not ready for anyone to know what I am besides the people who already do. If I file a complaint, it will become record, and I’m not ready for that.”

Gladio sighed. He’d obviously known perfectly well that that was what he was going to say. “I can’t believe he’s gonna get away with treating you like that, Iggy. You know his name?”

Ignis shook his head. He squeezed Gladio’s palm. “I know it’s wrong. I know I should speak up, but I’m just not ready. Please…”

“I respect that,” he said. When Ignis raised that eyebrow again, he chuckled and added, “Really, I do. I just want that son of a bitch to pay for hurting you.”

“I hurt him back, if it’s any consolation.”

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Some.” He twitched his fingers and began to lead Ignis towards the bathroom, and the sound of running water.

“How’s the temperature?” he asked, shutting off the taps. It wasn’t very hot, but he figured Ignis could add more if he wanted.

Ignis trailed his fingers through the water, an odd sort of disconnect beginning in his mind, separating him from his surroundings. “Fine,” he murmured.

“Ok, well, I’ll leave you, ok. You hop in and soak a bit. I’ll be back out there, alright?” he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, and Ignis nodded vaguely.

 

***

 

Rage boiled along Gladio’s veins as he sat listening to Ignis get into the bath. The sounds carried easily across his modest apartment, and as the splashing reached his ears, he began to growl, thinking of Ignis trying to wash off a stench that wouldn’t fully leave his skin for days unless…

Unless…

Gladio growled and clenched his fists again. No. He mustn’t think like that. The sound of his anger filled the room, thick and oppressive. He couldn’t’ shut the sound off. It just rolled out of him over and over, until he bared his teeth and snapped at the empty air.

He sucked in a huge breath through his nose.

Ignis.

Omega.

Alpha.

Assault.

A barrage of thoughts battered against his control, but he weathered it.

In the two weeks since his stunning revelation in the corridor behind the ballroom, he had spent a _lot_ of time analysing his behaviour towards Ignis, and his feelings for him. Seeing Ignis, the calm, collected, sassy ‘beta’ flaked out on the floor, palming his own crotch, cheeks flushed, and pushing out the most incredible scent that had ever reached Gladio’s nostrils, had certainly been a shock, but that had been nothing next to the hurt that had followed, realising that Ignis had kept it from him all these years.

Ignis was his best friend. There was nothing he hadn’t told Ignis. Ever. Any fear he’d ever had, any doubt about his duty, any worries about not being strong enough, any panic over Iris, _anything_ , he had come straight to Ignis with it.

They’d sat on this sofa a hundred times, discussing anything in Gladio’s life from dentist appointments and an irrational fear of needles – ironic given the half-finished artwork on his body, he knew –, to Iris and her growing interest in the opposite sex, and even the king’s health. _Everything._

And Ignis had been quietly sitting there on the biggest secret of them all.

That thought lanced through Gladio’s chest again, hot and painful as on the night of Noct’s eighteenth. He would never rid himself of the terror that had surged through the lust in Ignis’ bright, wide, green eyes when he’d seen Gladio stepping through the panel in the wall.

“Why didn’t you trust me with it?” he hissed aloud. “Why?”

But the longer he sat there, listening to the soft wash of rippling water from next door, he realised there was another pain equal to that of Ignis’ deception.

What hurt him almost more even than being lied to, was that he had gone full-alpha on Ignis any number of times. As a beta, Ignis could have weathered those tempestuous outbreaks with relative ease. Of course Gladio had always apologised afterwards for losing control. And the matter had been brushed aside. And to all external appearances, it seemed he _had_ weathered them with ease.

But Gladio knew what it was like to go up against an Amicitia alpha. He’d borne the brunt of his father’s full _alpha_ voice as a teenager. He’d actually needed it then, of course. But still, he knew what it meant to be shaken to the very foundations by an alpha intonation as strong as that in the Amicitia line.

Memories flashed before his mind’s eye. He was seventeen, Ignis sixteen. His mother had just passed away, and he was a mess. A total fucking mess.

He was worrying about Iris, about his father, and about himself. He had been punching and lashing out at the training dummy for an hour. His knuckles were raw, his muscles shaking, his breathing ragged, and he was still so damned angry with her. She knew better than to go hunting alone. She _knew_. She was an omega. She was tough as all fuck, but still, she was an omega. She was supposed to raise Iris, to support her son as he trained to take over from his dad in the toughest job in the whole fucking kingdom, and yet she’d gone off and got herself killed.

His raging grief had run its course and Ignis had stepped into the training room – slender, sweet, spotty, kind, gentle Ignis – and laid his hand on Gladio’s sweat-slicked shoulder. And Gladio had lost it. He’d flung his arm up and batted him away. He’d yelled at him. He’d _screamed_ how gods-damned unfair it was, and Ignis had just _stood_ there and taken it.

Sure, he’d gone white in the face and left immediately afterwards, but still.

His memories slid on to a night out with them all. He was eighteen, calmer, much less aggressive, but where aggression had waned, other hormones had taken its place. Noct and Prom hadn’t been drinking, but they were euphoric as they danced in the strobing neon lights, intertwining and throwing out their own scents, intermingling so that even Gladio felt lightheaded. He’d pulled Ignis off the banquette on the side and yanked him into the heaving mass of people too. “Let loose, Iggy!” he’d laughed. “I know you betas are all straight-laced and proper, but surely you know how to have fun?” He’d been well on the way to hammered that night.

“Charming,” Ignis had quipped, stepping away from him a little.

Gladio had shrugged. He clearly remembered shrugging, and yanking some blonde into his arms. If he couldn’t have Ignis, if Ignis wasn’t interested, he needed someone to rut up against. She had been more than willing, and would have to do for the time being.

When next he’d looked around, Ignis had returned to his seat and taken out a book of all things. If only he’d known then. He’d have behaved so differently.

And then there had been the countless little moments. The throwaway comments, the joking lines, the ‘harmless’ fun, the growls, the gestures, the posturing, the teeth, the _closeness_.

He screwed his face up and cracked his knuckles. If only he’d just fucking _known._ He could have spared Ignis all that pain.

And then he noticed how quiet it was. He’d been lost in thought longer than he’d realised, and he cocked his head to one side, listening for sounds from the bathroom. Nothing.

Rising, he padded silently to the door and pressed an ear against the wood. “Iggy?”

When he got no answer, his heartrate tripled. “Iggy, you ok in there?”

Nothing.

“Iggy, I swear if I don’t get an answer, I’m coming in.”

Nothing.

Gladio shoved the door open and barged in to see Ignis sitting in the bath with his knees drawn up to his chest, hugging them, staring off with a thousand mile stare. He was shivering.

He grabbed the soft towel from the heated towel rail and crossed to him. “Hey,” he murmured. “Hey, Iggy, c’mon. It’s ok. Time to get out though, yeah?”

With aching slowness, Ignis turned his green eyes up to look at him. His neck was pink over the glands.

“Come on,” Gladio urged. He wanted to use his _alpha_ voice. He wanted to reassure him. He wanted to protect him, to keep him safe, to tell him he was brave and strong and loved beyond all measure, but instead he just stroked his fingers through Ignis’ already greying hair. He was twenty. He shouldn’t have had grey in that ash-brown hair yet.

Biting down his own hurt for now, Gladio smiled softly. “C’mon.”

He encouraged him out of the bath, holding a towel up to preserve his dignity, trying to hold his own heart together as he thought of how marvellously strong Ignis had been up until now, and how utterly fragile and broken he looked in the face of the alpha’s assault and the aftermath of his secret becoming at least a little bit known.

“It’s ok,” he said again, wrapping the towel around him. “Come on.”

Ignis allowed himself to be led from the bathroom into his bedroom, and when he was in there, he turned to Gladio and spoke in a voice hoarse and totally unlike the voice he was used to hearing from Noctis’ advisor. “Thank you, Gladio. I’ll be alright now.”

He narrowed his eyes but nodded, retreating once more.

He didn’t have to wait long for Ignis to emerge, wearing soft grey trackpants and an old-fashioned, round-neck Crownsguard jumper that literally no one ever wore. Somehow, it suited him.

Pale and still looking somewhat breakable, Ignis made his way towards Gladio. Shuffling over so that Ignis didn’t have to pick his way around the coffee table to find a seat, and so that he had enough room not to feel hemmed in by a monstrously huge alpha, Gladio waited for him to sit. “You want me to make you some tea or something?” he asked.

Ignis shook his head. “No, thank you.” He eased himself onto the sofa and sighed an enormous breath out. “What a mess,” he murmured.

“Ig, it’s not –”

“ – my fault, I know. Really, I do,” he said as he cast a quick glance sideways at Gladio. “But still, it’s a mess.” After another heavy silence, he hissed, “Gods, I can still smell him. It wouldn’t come out.”

Gladio took a deep breath. “It won't. He scented you. But...” he bit back the rest of that. There was no way Ignis would want _that_.

Ignis, however, sharp even through the fog of his shock as it simmered down, turned his eyes up to Gladio's face. Those intense green eyes were asking him a silent question.

Gladio took a breath for courage. “It won't come out, but I could... replace it, if you want... But I... I understand if that's the last thing you –”

“-please.”

The word was so soft, he almost missed it. Near-silent as it was, that word was full of hurt, full of… _something_. He looked away, knowing for sure that Ignis could not really be asking for what Gladio was offering. It was all he had to offer Ignis now, in apology for… for everything.

“Please, Gladio,” Ignis murmured. “I know how you can make it stop. Please. Make it go away.”

Gladio’s head whipped back to stare at him. Those eyes were so miserable, so vulnerable, so unguarded and so open that Gladio felt he could see down to the bottom of Ignis’ soul. “Iggy, you sure you want what you’re asking?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Ok, but we need to talk after…”

“Deal.”

As he sat there bargaining, a little of Ignis’ spirit seemed to kindle, flickering back to life as he stared the alpha down, demanding what he could give him. In that moment, Gladio would have given him the whole world.

He turned his body so that his knee came to rest beside Ignis’ thigh, so that he could lean right over Ignis, wrap him in his arms, and then, slowly, carefully, giving him every opportunity to change his mind, to back out, to tell him to get off, he lowered his jaw, his neck, towards Ignis’ scent gland.

Hovering just those last few inches above Ignis’ skin, he asked him one more time. “Ignis, are you sure you want me to mark you?”

“Yes,” he choked. “Please. I can’t bear the stench of that alpha anymore. Please.”

And there he had it. Ignis didn’t want _Gladio_ so much as he wanted the alpha gone. Still, he did what he had wanted to do for a long time, if now for different reasons, and under vastly different circumstances.

The instant Ignis’ cool skin pressed against the thick muscle of Gladio’s neck, the alpha felt a wash of emotion welling up inside him. Like the legendary wrath of the Tidemother herself, he sensed everything he had ever felt for his best friend surging inside him, and his scent rushed out of him in a wall of emotion.

It was much stronger than he had intended.

As his mind went blank around the edges, Gladio wrapped up in his scent all his desire to protect his friend, to keep anyone from harming him ever again, his deep respect for him, his admiration for him, his guilt at going full-alpha on him and hurting him by doing it: everything he had ever felt for Ignis and more he poured into the scent until he heard Ignis gasp and clutch at him.

A wave of sweetness hit him in return, mingling with his scent like the smoke of two cigarettes, combining, twisting together into a heady mix. “Gladio!” Ignis gasped. There was no trace of fear in his scent now, no shame, no embarrassment – nothing but ecstasy and utter contentment. “Oh gods,” he whimpered, going limp beneath him, breathing heavily. “Oh gods.”

It was perfect. He pushed his scent more, and as he enveloped Ignis in that warmth, he felt something pushing back at him. Not aggressively, and not reluctantly: it was like being met half way and welcomed home. Ignis’ omega was reaching for him in return.

The realisation that Ignis wanted him too made him giddy, and he pulled back slightly, but Ignis’ hands flew to his shoulders, and he pulled himself up to be closer to Gladio again.

 _I’m sorry_ , Gladio’s alpha seemed to growl softly. And then he realised that the low rumbling in the room _was_ him growling. It wasn’t an angry growl.

It was an alpha’s growl of possession, and despite the hurt of Ignis not trusting him, he poured his heart out to him, hoping that if Ignis knew his real feelings after all this time, he would understand that he really could trust Gladio with his secret.

And Gladio would have been lying if he’d said he didn’t find Ignis even more attractive, knowing now that he was an omega. Perhaps that was just the alpha in him talking.

Gladio continued to nuzzle against him in slow, steady strokes until he knew he ought to back off. Ignis was well and truly marked. Everyone would know Gladio had claimed him. Everyone would recognise an alpha’s possession. And the depth of the scent would warn of dire consequences befalling any who should bring Ignis to harm.

 

***

 

Ignis was utterly overwhelmed.

Never in his wildest, heat-clouded fantasies as a newly-presented omega had he ever dreamed that being claimed by an alpha could be so beautiful. And just as that earthshattering thought hit him, a part of his brain recalled the circumstances that this was all happening. Gladio wasn’t _claiming_ him. For all the euphoria flooding his brain, he hadn’t bitten his scent gland. He was only marking him. And he was only doing that because some fuckwit alpha with the total brain function of a bar peanut had managed to mark him first.

It was almost enough to make him miserable.

And then something happened with Gladio’s scent. The depth, the feeling, the emotion behind it left him breathless and dizzy.

“Gladio! Oh gods,” he murmured as the scent darkened even more, and Gladio’s hands moved over his shoulders. It was so perfect it was going to break him. “Oh gods.”

He lost himself in the feeling, reaching for it, suddenly drunk on all he’d denied himself since presenting. Pulling himself up by Gladio’s shoulders, he worked his own scent gland back on Gladio’s skin. If he was going to be covered in Gladio’s scent, then Gladio should be covered in his.

He bared his neck to him as far as he was able, offering his entire body up in apology. He wanted everything in his scent, his body, his voice, to tell Gladio how sorry he was for keeping all this from him. A soft whine escaped him, tiny, apologetic, meek, and a little overwhelmed. But it felt so good.

“Iggy?” Gladio asked, pulling back.

And Ignis _keened_ at the loss.

“I’m sorry,” Gladio said, stroking Ignis’ cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone that far. I’m sorry. Are you ok?”

Silent tears were streaming down his face. He wasn’t aware that he’d started crying, just that he _was_ crying. He nodded. “No one’s ever…” he faltered. “I’ve never… allowed myself…” His chest was heaving and all he wanted was for Gladio to climb back on top of him and smother him with that alpha presence again. “I need you.”

But at those last three words, that little voice spoke up, warning him that it was probably just his omega talking. That Gladio wouldn’t appreciate being taken advantage of by a needy, touch-starved omega like that. He ground his teeth, and breathed steadily.

Gladio sat back on the sofa and uttered a sentence Ignis _never_ would have predicted coming from those rough, chapped lips. “Gods, Ignis, I’ve wanted to do that to you for so long. I’m just sorry it had to happen under circumstances this shitty.”

Ignis experienced a short circuit in the brain at that, and just sat there, blinking stupidly. Somehow it helped to ‘reset’ him a little after the stupefying effect of Gladio’s marking him. “I’m sorry, what?” he finally blurted.

A sheepish grin plastered itself over Gladio’s face. “Yeah. I figured you were a beta. I figured you weren’t interested in me, or you’d have done something by now. I never imagined it was coz you were trying to keep your true dynamic from me.”

It felt like something had passed between them in that marking, something without words, _more_ than words, some kind of unspoken understanding.

Gladio paused, running his fingers through his hair, which had become tangled and mussed in a way that made Ignis think of sex, and hands, and tugging at it. All things he had no direct experience of, but still, how he ached to do them to Gladio.

Unaware of the effect his dishevelled state was having on Ignis, Gladio ploughed on. “I’m so sorry I was so stupid, Ignis. I… I hurt you.” He looked down at his bare foot where one leg was crossed underneath the other on the sofa cushions. “I hurt you. And I didn’t even know.”

Ignis inhaled, catching the scent, like burning caramel, of his displeasure. Instinctively, if still afraid, he reached for Gladio’s bare arm. His cool fingers found the warm, hard muscle of Gladio’s forearm, and he traced the ghostly tattoo lines up to his shoulder where the head of the eagle disappeared beneath the tank top, already mostly finished. “It’s not your fault. And you never hurt me. Not really.” He wasn’t about to tell Gladio now about those training sessions where he’d given himself no choice but to stand there and take the full brunt of a raging alpha just as strong as, if not stronger than, Gladio. That would have to wait for another day.

“Besides,” Ignis said as he trailed his fingers up and down Gladio’s arm for a moment, wanting to give his body something to do that wasn’t leaping into Gladio’s lap and rubbing his scent gland all over him again. His poor neck was already sore from the first alpha and from the bath, and then from Gladio’s beard.

“Besides what?”

He sighed. “I think I hurt you. Didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, eyes drifting down to watch Ignis’ fingers. “I wish you’d trusted me with it.”

“Gladio, I couldn’t’ tell anyone,” he said.

“I know. I get it. But,” he snorted a little laugh. “Part of me still wishes you’d trusted me.”

Ignis moved to grip his arm. “I _do_ trust you.”

Gladio’s eyebrow twitched.

“ _Gladio_ …” He didn’t mean for it to come out as a testy little omega whine. But it did. It just slipped out. Perhaps it was so soon after the marking, with alpha pheromones firmly lodged in his brain, but Ignis had no more control over his voice in that split second than he did during a heat. “I can never forget what I am,” he said, as much in response to his own slight panic as to explain himself to Gladio. “Never.”

Gladio seemed to understand, but he still looked like he’d taken a punch to the gut. After a while, he sighed. “Iggy?” he asked, and Ignis nodded. “Can… Can I hold you?”

Ignis smiled.

Gladio shuffled so that his shoulders and neck were propped against the arm of the sofa, and his body lay the length of the couch. Ignis, in an act of openness that surprised and delighted him in equal measure, laid his own body down in the gap between Gladio and the back of the sofa cushions. He lay on his side while Gladio was on his back, one arm hooked around Ignis’ shoulders, and Ignis rested his head on the space just above the eagle tattoo.

“Tell me something?” Gladio asked.

“I owe you that much. “

“You sent me to find Noct that night. How long has he known?”

The hurt in Gladio’s was painful to hear but he forced himself to confront it head on. “To my shame, he’s apparently known for years.”

“And Prom?”

“A matter of weeks, I believe.”

Gladio didn’t stop to process any of that. “And when you asked me to get him, did he… I mean are you two…?”

“Gods no,” Ignis gasped. “He’s the prince, my charge, almost. I could never think of him that way. Not even in a heat. I love him, but… not like that. Did you think we…?”

“The thought did cross my mind, yeah.” Gladio was silent for a heartbeat longer and he said, “I was also angry because I was jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah.” His voice took on a new, husky quality, and he cleared his throat before going on. “I… Once I got over the shock that you’d… you know…”

“Concealed it from you?”

“Yeah, and that you’d gone into a heat in the middle of a drinks party,” he said, evident humour finding its way into his tone now that the immediate danger had passed. “After that, all I could think of was you tucked away in Noct’s rooms, either with him helping you through it, which even I had a hard time imagining, but still, or with you going it alone. I don’t know what hurt more.”

Ignis, feeling about as brave as a field mouse, opened his lips, drew in a quick breath, and spoke before the more rational parts of his brain could stop him. “Perhaps you can help me through my next one.”

Gladio froze, but his heartbeat betrayed him, shortly followed by a spicy rush of scent. He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes.

“Or I could go it alone,” Ignis smirked.

“No,” Gladio growled, tightening his grip around Ignis’ shoulders. “No, you let me in just then. You’re not backing out just yet.”

Ignis laughed and cuddled closer to him, glad that he had taken the hand offered to him and accepted it without comment. “No. You’re right: I’m not.” They lay there for a while, Ignis breathing softly, feeling the tension bleeding out of his body while Gladio just held him.

“Does it bother you?” Gladio asked a little while later.

“Does what bother me?”

“That I know… That I found out the way I did?”

“Yes,” he said, truth ringing like a temple bell in the simple word. “Yes, it does. I’m ashamed of myself, and I’m terrified. It really isn’t that I don’t trust you,” he said, fiddling absently with a loose thread on the hem of Gladio’s tank, somewhere near his collarbones. “It was never that.”

It all felt so… natural. Like they’d skipped the awkwardness and somehow found themselves totally at peace. Nothing about the landscape had changed, and yet a tectonic shift had occurred beneath.

“Then what _are_ you afraid of?”

He sighed and released the little thread, letting his hand fall quietly onto Gladio’s solid torso. He breathed in that wonderful smell of his skin, like spices and hot iron, rainfall and something else, and then said, “I’m afraid of being taken away from Noctis.”

Gladio’s heartbeat was a steady drum in his chest, and Ignis pressed his ear closer to it, to let it fill his mind the way his scent had when he’d been marked. His glands throbbed, but in a different way now. He felt whole. Safe.

“Why would they take you from him?” Gladio asked with a stunning naivety that spoke volumes of his ignorance of the treatment of omegas, even in Lucis.

Ignis moaned softly. “You know how easy it can be for an omega to be overwhelmed. You’ve seen it first hand with me tonight, after all, and I’ve undergone training. Omegas can be compelled, even controlled… There are those on the council who would be _horrified_ at the idea of an omega in a role so close to the future king.”

“But he’s fucking Prom,” Gladio blurted, and a bark of wild laughter escaped Ignis before he could stop it.

“Oh Gladio, you do have such a way with words.”

A chuckle, deep and earthy as distant, rumbling thunder, rolled off Gladio’s chest. “It’s good to hear you laugh,” he said.

At the words, a strange thrill ran through Ignis. Prompto had said exactly the same thing to him after his fit of hysterics back at the palace. Perhaps airing his secrets might not be such a bad thing after all? This certainly didn’t seem to be going badly at any rate.

“When you say you’ve undergone training…?” Gladio began, but Ignis shook his head.

“Please, don’t make me talk about that tonight.”

“Alright,” he said, but there was the distinct sound of the information being filed away in a corner of his brain to be brought out later. “Well, Ignis, look, I wanna say something, and I kinda have to say it now or I never will.”

Ignis’ heart picked up its pace again, but Gladio pushed a tiny, reassuring scent out and stroked his hair until he felt his spine go slack.

“I… I don’t want you to think that I’m doing any of this now just because I know you’re an omega, ok?”

“You’re not?”

“No. I’m doing exactly what I would be doing were you any other dynamic.”

“If I were an alpha, there’s little chance I’d tolerate it,” he sniffed.

“I dunno,” Gladio smiled. “We can be fierce, but nothing beats a good cuddle, lemme tell you.”

Ignis bit back the words ‘ _I’ll have to take your word for it_ ’, and nuzzled softly against his shoulder, adjusting his weight on the sofa cushions beneath him. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted, yawning.

“This doesn’t mean I’m not still gonna be pissed at you for lying to me though,” Gladio added, making Ignis’ stomach twist with guilt one last time.

The longer they lay there, Gladio stroking his fingers idly through Ignis’ hair, the faster exhaustion galloped up to meet him until he was suddenly washed under by a great wave of it.

Succumbing without a fight, he slipped into a blank sleep, the scent of Gladio filling his mind and warming parts of him that he didn’t even realise had frozen over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a Tumblr post with some background stuff. Excuse me posting the full fucking link on here, but I have no idea how to make html cooperate and make it a lil in-text link because I'm an idiot and it doesn't seem to be working for me. *shrugs*
> 
> https://expectogladiolus.tumblr.com/post/167557252659/sidles-in-shyly-from-ao3-can-i-ask-you-about


	9. Starting Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Season Two' opens with a bang. Literally. I'm sorry. Ish. This is 99.9% gladnis porn. If you're here for actual story, maybe skip this one and wait til the next chapter gets posted. This one, by the way, is only up here because a few lovely people gently and supportively waving pitch forks on Tumblr told me I should post it now rather than wait til more got written (it's planned, just not typed up). So, here it is.

Ignis drifted in and out of wakefulness before stirring and inhaling deeply. He was warm and snuggled up in his bed, with no memory of how he got there at all. Ordinarily, that would have scared him, but there was a cushion of safety that suffused the very air of the room, enveloping him in such a thick, warm layer of comfort that he could barely bring himself to move.

His glands throbbed, but not painfully, and he brought a hand tentatively to the delicate skin of his neck.

_Gladio._

Ignis inhaled more deeply as he surfaced more fully from the shallower end of sleep.

The pillow beneath his head was so soft, and just the right firmness to support his head and spine. The feather duvet was thick and fluffy, moulded perfectly to his body, draped snugly around his shoulders. He was warm, so blessedly warm. And the most incredible smell lingered in his nostrils.

 _Gladio_.

_Alpha._

Gladio had been there for him. He had bitten down his own hurt, his own discomfort at having been lied to for the four years since Ignis’ presentation, and had set everything aside to comfort him. And Gladio had taken away the horror of being marked by that alpha. He had comforted him. His body had been pressed along his own. He’d even said that he’d wanted to mark him for years, but that he hadn’t been sure of Ignis’ interests, and thus had not.

A little whine escaped Ignis’ lips at that, and he squirmed slightly, feeling that familiar morning wetness slickening his thighs as ever. And then he realised quite why he was so warm.

Gladio hadn’t left.

Breathing evenly on the pillow beside him, with his body wrapped around Ignis’ like a protective outer shell, Gladio slept peacefully, the scent of a deeply contented alpha rolling off him in intense waves.

“Well,” Ignis whispered to himself, “That explains a lot.” It explained the almost delirious happiness he’d awoken to, and it went a very long way to explaining the degree of wetness between his legs.

Gladio’s heavy wrist rested on the subtle curve of Ignis’ waist, just above his hip bones, and the alpha sniffed and exhaled more deeply in his sleep, shuffling subtly, his nose and lips pressing against the nape of Ignis’ neck. He rumbled quietly in his sleep, almost a purr, and a moan escaped Ignis’ lips with a small rush of slick.

Gladio, asleep, was totally unguarded about his alpha presence, and it was beginning to unravel Ignis’ carefully constructed walls of self-control already. But somehow he knew there was no real way to guard himself against Gladio, and perhaps there never had been. Nor was there any real need to try now, other than reasons his brain fabricated for him in the haze of his lingering insecurities.

“Mmm,” Gladio murmured, clearly surfacing from sleep himself now. “Mmm… Gods, Iggy…” His voice was deep and thick with sleep, and his hand tightened on the hard muscles of Ignis’ torso, tugging his body against the shield’s own, to where, Ignis was equally delighted and alarmed to discover, he was rock hard. This was not just morning hard, but a full, raging hard on. 

Gladio slowly ground that morning wood between the cleft of Ignis’ thighs, the soft cotton pants doing absolutely nothing to lessen the effect of an alpha’s hard cock.

“ _Gladio_?” he whimpered, cursing himself for the way it came out in his omega voice.

The alpha was awake instantly at the sound of it. “Ig?” His sweet, musky scent soured instantly and he rolled away. “Fuck, Ig, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yes,” he whined. “I’m ok. I…” and then the words tumbled from his lips before he could prevent himself from voicing them. “Don’t stop.”

Gladio’s scent deepened in response to the omega’s little quavering plea, becoming like raw honey and sea salt, smoke fires and endless starry nights, and Ignis’ spine went absolutely slack.

He could feel his omega taking over, and for once, he couldn’t have cared a single iota less. The events of the previous evening, the amount that Gladio clearly _cared_ for him, played across his mind and he made a decision then and there. “ _Please_.”

“Ig,” Gladio rasped, “You’re serious? I shouldn’t have stayed, let alone in your bed. I’m sorry. I know what ‘alpha’ is like in the morning. Please, I fucked up… Let me do this properly. Let me court you properly first.”

“You can’t. No one can know what I am,” Ignis said, turning over, ignoring the way his thighs slipped over one another. He was soaked now.

As he shifted in the bed, Gladio must have caught a whiff of his scent and of his slick, because his eyes rolled back as his pupils blew wide. “Fuck.”

Gladio’s hand travelled to the soft skin of Ignis’ stomach, and Ignis shuddered violently as that callused palm, worn smooth and hard by years and years of weapons training, skated over his ribs and up to his oh-so-very-sensitive nipples. As Gladio’s thumb and forefinger closed on the nub of his nipple, adding slow pressure until goosebumps erupted all over his chest and down his side, Ignis, touch-starved and suddenly painfully awake, threw his head back into the pillows behind him, and cried out.

The cry broke even as it came out, turning high and shrill as Gladio increased the pressure. Ignis’ whole body trembled and Gladio reared closer to him at the sound of it, pressing his body along the length of Ignis’ own, grinding his cock into the outside of Ignis’ hip.

His fingers moved downwards, enjoying the sharply-carved angle of Ignis’ hip bone before sliding further down to the smooth, hard muscle of his thigh. “Gods,” Gladio hissed. “Gods, Ignis. Are you sure? Are you sure you want this? Coz if you don’t tell me to stop now, I might not be able to. I’m sorry. I just… I’ve wanted you so long. And you’re so beautiful. I…”

Ignis silenced the whisperings of Gladio’s desire by rolling on top of him and kissing him. He had never been so forward in his entire life, but his whole body burned for the alpha beside him, coming awake and alive in a way he’d never anticipated.

Straddling him, groin locked over Gladio’s by his lean, gymnast’s thighs, Ignis grabbed the long hair that fell free across the pillow and tugged on it as he pressed an un-practised kiss into his full lips.

Mercifully, Gladio took over not long after, and rutted up against Ignis with a growl that made Ignis shiver all over, breaking off his kiss breathlessly as another whine surged up out of him and he slumped forwards onto Gladio’s chest. 

Ignis’ slick had smeared his boxer-briefs and soaked through to his cotton pyjamas but it only seemed to drive them both further into their growing frenzy.

“Ig,” Gladio panted. “Ig, please, tell me you want this. I need to hear you say it, and not in that gods-damned sexy omega voice.” He gripped Ignis’ shoulders and lifted him upright. It probably didn’t help much that the action seated Ignis _more_ firmly on Gladio’s cock, and Ignis whimpered softly as he felt again quite how hard the alpha was for him.

Blushing as Gladio continued to stare intensely at him, blown pupils ringed with a halo of gold, Ignis found his brain sliding into a moment of lucidity and he twitched as though trying to get off Gladio and flee, eyes going wide.

“Gladio,” he rasped. “Gladio, I… I’m sorry. I got carried away. I shouldn’t have taken advantage like that… I…”

Gladio’s nostrils flared, and he rumbled something deep and reassuring in his chest that made Ignis’ insides leap and then melt, almost simultaneously. “Ignis, you didn’t take advantage. Just… Just tell me you want this. Or not. If you don’t want this, I’ll get up and leave and I’ll never make any kind of move on you ever again –”

“ – _No_ , don’t say that, please,” Ignis choked, fingers clenching around Gladio’s wrists like a raptor’s talons. “I… I do want this. I’ve always wanted you. My omega has too, yes, but _I_ want you. You’re perfect.” His brows buckled and his body burned with desperate want, the need to let Gladio know he wanted him for who he was, not just because Ignis was a weak, sex-starved omega. “You’re strong and articulate, intelligent, and so beautiful, Gladio… _Please_ …”

Gladio chuckled softly and raised his palm to Ignis’ cheek. “Ok. Ok, my ego’s big enough already, Iggy. You can stop there.”

“Good, because… I’ve never… I mean, I want this, but I’ve never been with anyone… I don’t know…”

“I’ll take good care of you.”

And with that, Ignis’ last reservations and fears crumbled.

Gladio flipped Ignis onto his back and let out a soft, _alpha_ growl, nosing insistently at the scent glands in Ignis’ neck. “Mmm, Ig,” he murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses over the slightly swollen gland, “I can’t smell him any more. Just me.”

 _Bite me, mark me, claim me_ , Ignis thought, and unbeknownst to him, his scent sweetened. He caught the echo of it in Gladio’s, and in the way the alpha rocked against him.

Gladio’s left hand moved lower, beneath the waistband of his pyjamas, and his whole body went rigid. “Oh Ignis,” he breathed as his fingertips slid in the thick, sweet slick that pooled between Ignis’ cheeks. “Oh gods, you’re _this_ wet? For me?”

Ignis nodded wordlessly, finding his response evaporating on his tongue as his arousal spiked. He felt his omega taking control of his body, opening him up, giving him almost no choice now, but he was more than ok with that.

It should have terrified him. It was everything he had fought against for the past four years, everything that, by and large, he had been so good at containing, but as he lay there with Gladio, his best friend, skating his hands up and down him as though he didn’t know which part of Ignis to enjoy first, he simply let go.

If he’d been _truly_ uncomfortable with it, he could have said no. He’d had just enough shreds of self-possession left to stop his omega from taking over. But in that moment, resisting his omega was the last thing he wanted.

He knew Gladio. And Gladio now _knew_ him. He _knew_ he was an omega. He had asked him if he was alright with this. He didn’t see him as weak. He respected him.

All those thoughts chanted through Ignis’ head as he lay there with Gladio on top of him, working his fingers now towards the source of his slick. Ignis’ weeping cock dabbed precum on his stomach. Then Gladio slid a finger carefully inside him and Ignis lurched, spine ratcheting tight, and he _yelled_ in pleasure.

“Fuck,” Gladio hissed, and his scent spiked hot and heavy again, filling Ignis’ brain with the scent of one extremely turned-on alpha.

“Ah-hh, _Gladio_!” he whined, hands clawing at the sheets beneath him. “ _Please_! Please, _I need you, please_.”

“Iggy, you on birth control?” Gladio managed to croak, his other fist slowly working Ignis’ cock while the omega’s whole body shook uncontrollably, moans and whines pouring out of him as he let the long-denied sensations wash through him.

Ignis nodded vaguely.

“ _Ignis_?” Gladio’s _alpha_ intonation just seeping through enough to prompt Ignis to answer him, but not enough to rob him of control.

“Yes, yes, I am,” he gasped, back arching, hips lifting again as Gladio twisted his hand at the tip of his cock, the wet of the omega’s slick providing the perfect amount of lubrication to keep him from getting over-sensitive, though it was a damn close thing. “They’re part of my suppressants, and I’m clean. Please, I can’t… I won’t last much longer if you keep doing… ” He paused, trying to catch his breath, swallowing thickly, trying to return to the topic of sexual health for a moment. “I’ve never been with… but it’s part of every omega’s health checks anyway. I’m clean. _Please_ …”

“Yeah, I’m clean too. Ok, good,” he said, laughing softly. “Gods, Iggy, you’re so damned perfect. I’m not sure I can wait much longer either.” And as Gladio sank three fingers into him, he felt just how ready Ignis was for him.

Waves of intense pleasure swept through Ignis at the feeling of Gladio’s fingers inside him, leaving him strangely mute and trembling. It reminded him of the wild abandon of his heats, only this was both better and worse. It was better because it was _Gladio_ doing this to him, but it was worse because it wasn’t anywhere near enough. He knew what he wanted now. At twenty he was absolutely at the peak of his sexual maturity, and never having been so much as touched by another, regardless of their dynamic, his body was truly starved of what it craved.

Gladio pulled back a little while later with a deeply resonant _alpha_ growl and Ignis keened at the loss of Gladio’s fingers, his hips squirming, fingers still clawing at the sheets. He had allowed himself to tip freely backwards into an almost entirely _omega_ headspace now, and with Gladio drawing away, if only to allow him to rip his boxers off and take Ignis’ clothes off properly too, Ignis felt like he’d had the cords of a parachute cut and that he was in free fall.

“Shh,” Gladio crooned when they were both blessedly naked. “My gods, Iggy, I knew you were beautiful already, but just _look at you._ ” The timbre of his voice dropped once more into an _alpha_ intonation that Ignis felt right down to the marrow of his bones.

The omega didn’t seem to realise what he was doing as he brought his hand to his cock and began to work his length slowly but with distinct _intent_.

Gladio sat back on his heels to watch him for a moment or two. “Six, Ignis,” he purred, his hand moving to ease the edge off his own need. “Look at me?”

Ignis’ eyes had rolled shut, his left hand moving so that he could reach his fingers beneath him to where Gladio had started to relax him, his muscles slackening in a very _omega_ anticipation of what Gladio had to offer. “ _Please, come back_ ,” Ignis whined. “ _I need you, Gladio._ ”

Slick glistened on Ignis’ knuckles as he pulled his fingers from his entrance and Gladio’s scent billowed out around them both, possessive and thick with lust. He caught Ignis’ hand up in his own and brought it to his lips.

Ignis gasped and moaned again, his muscles shaking, his stomach clenching, as Gladio licked the sweetness of Ignis’ slick off the omega’s fingers one at a time. The sight of Gladio’s lips closing over his knuckles, the sensation of his tongue on Ignis’ slender, sensitive fingers, the way Gladio’s eyes closed, long eyelashes fluttering, made Ignis’ mind go blank at the edges again.

Gladio was kneeling above him, but with a flash of his green eyes, Ignis flipped him onto his back. It was easy enough, given that they’d been wrestling together for years, and besides, Gladio was at a disadvantage with one hand occupied, and his brain completely taken up with the taste and scent of Ignis.

Ignis gasped as he sat back and felt how hard Gladio was beneath him, began to grind his cock against Gladio’s groin, covering him in the slick that coated his inner thighs too now. If alphas used their scent glands and teeth to mark omegas, omegas had their own version of staking a claim. While he used blockers to hide his omega nature, with this much slick, this many emotions swirling inside him, Ignis knew he would leave his scent on Gladio. His slick wouldn’t smell of specifically of _omega_ , but it would definitely smell of ‘Ignis’. Somehow his ragged-at-the-edges brain didn’t seem to process that properly, and he repeated the gesture.

“You’re _mine_ ,” Ignis purred, leaning forward with his green eyes ablaze, hands on Gladio’s tattooed chest, nose buried against the glands in Gladio’s neck. They were swollen and he was throwing off scent like an alpha in rut. Ignis kissed them, tongue tasting the sweat beading on his tanned skin, and then rubbed his own scent glands against them, in a feline display of possession. “You’re _mine, Gladiolus_. I want you. Gods, I want you.”

Gladio’s hard cock slid between his thighs as he rolled his hips up one more time, his own cock smearing precum on the muscles of his hard stomach. Gladio was growling softly, possessively; a deep, animalistic rumbling in his chest that he couldn’t help or stop.

“You’re so beautiful,” Gladio panted, awestruck, irises little more than a golden halo around his blown pupils as he stared at what Ignis was doing to him. “I never thought I’d see you like this.”

“You made me like this,” Ignis murmured.

“Ig,” Gladio rasped, suddenly seeming unsure.

“Shh,” Ignis smiled, stroking Gladio’s hair back from his face. “Shh, it’s alright. I want this. I want us. Fuck,” he added, at the sound of which Gladio’s heart skipped a beat, “ _I want you_.”

Gladio’s tip nudged at his entrance as the alpha’s iron control began to crack again and he started to thrust up into Ignis a little with each pass of Ignis’ pelvis. The moment Gladio’s cock slid even a little way inside him, Ignis threw his head back, spine bending, pushing against it, feeling him sliding slowly inside. He was ready. He’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Gladio.

“Ig,” Gladio gasped, his breathing fast and shallow, “Ignis, I…” His control was beginning to break, the deeper he seated himself inside Ignis.

Ignis’ body went slowly taut, every muscle tensing at the utterly new sensation of an alpha’s cock sinking into him. His lips were parted, his hair fell into his eyes, one hand was on Gladio’s chest, the other behind him, fingertips feeling the alpha’s cock as it filled him.

And then his fingers found the knot at the base of Gladio’s cock, and he jutted his chin high and keened. He was so full already, but his omega knew what it needed. Ignis had never dreamed he would ever take anything other than the lifelike imitation of an alpha cock he used during his heats. At the sheer heat of Gladio’s knot hit the ring of muscle at his entrance, his body began to shake.

His strong, lean thighs trembled, and he felt slick drip down the inside of his leg. He was breathing so fast he thought he might just pass out from either that or the overwhelming pleasure that was fanning out through his senses. “Gl…Gladio…” he gasped. “ _Please_ …”

“Don’t… wanna hurt… you, Ig,” he grunted, clearly having tremendous difficulty restraining himself from rutting up into Ignis and fucking him blind. Gladio’s own massive thighs were shivering too, and he ground his jaw. “Fuck. Fuck you’re so tight,” he gasped, “Fuck, fuck, fuck… Ignis, _fuck_ …”

And at that, Ignis seated himself fully on Gladio’s knot.

A litany of nonsense spilled from Ignis’ lips as he lost himself completely to his inner omega. No rational part of his mind remained as the omega in him took over, submitting everything – his safety, his secrets – to Gladio’s care. Whatever he said, however, caused Gladio’s scent to thicken so that Ignis could taste it, feel it, on his tongue when he inhaled. If he’d been able to open his eyes, if he’d been in control of his hearing, he would have seen Gladio’s own eyes go wide at his words, and he’d have heard Gladio’s response, simultaneously kind and breathless.

However, he did not.

It hurt him to take the alpha’s knot, but his body reacted by relaxing just enough and releasing a huge amount of hormones to counter it, and he sat there a moment, spine arched, with Gladio holding him, supporting him, by the hip and the shoulder.

As the wild rush faded to something more manageable, Ignis opened his eyes to see Gladio staring up at him, a look of crazed wonder in his handsome features. “You ok?” Gladio managed to grunt, his abs spasming as his knot swelled completely to lock them together.

Ignis nodded vaguely, starting to feel that euphoric slackening to every muscle that he’d read about in knotted omegas before, but never for a moment dreamed he’d experience. Soon he wouldn’t be able to support himself in this position. This was as close as he came to the fervour of a heat, but this felt, despite the lack of control of his limbs, _right_. _This_ was what his heats had prepared him for. This was _infinitely_ better than his heats.

Gladio’s hormones and scents whipped him up into a wild fever of desire and he began to move again as best he could, as much as he was able to with the knot locking him in place.

“Ig, lemme move on top of you,” Gladio said as Ignis began to sway giddily.

It didn’t take long, but every movement Gladio made inside him sent a shock of pleasure through every nerve in Ignis’ body. Finally he lay on his back, his knees pulled up, with Gladio looming over him.

“You’re ok,” Gladio smiled. And then he began to move. The knot pulled on the ring of muscle and with each stroke Gladio made, Ignis made a little noise in the back of his throat. It was all the sound he was capable of making.

Gladio’s rhythm picked up, his hips knocking into Ignis as he got faster and faster. A feverish sweat broke out across Gladio’s shoulders, and he began to growl again. His alpha teeth were bared as he neared his peak, and he leaned forwards over Ignis, one hand beside Ignis’ head. The other he used to keep Ignis’ left leg up, Ignis’ right hooked over his shoulder.

“Damn, Iggy,” he grunted. “You’re flexible.”

Ignis couldn’t speak, but he keened and cocked a trademark eyebrow, as though to say ‘I told you so’, or ‘what did you expect?’ He was blessedly close now, a sheen of sweat covering his entire body as Gladio’s cock pounded against his prostate over and over.

Gladio grinned, alpha tooth flashing again, and Ignis shuddered violently at the sight of it. His body knew just what he wanted Gladio to do with those alpha teeth, but a distant something in the back of his brain reminded him that he probably wasn’t quite ready to be bonded and mated just yet. Being knotted was quite enough for the moment. “ _Please_ ,” he whined, not sure quite what he was asking for.

“Touch yourself,” Gladio hissed, and Ignis instantly obliged as best he could, curled up on himself as Gladio rammed into him as deep as he could get without hurting Ignis. He matched the rhythm Gladio set, calling out, clasping at the sheets beneath him as he suddenly surged towards orgasm.

“I…” was all he managed to cry before he came, painting his stomach and hand white, his body clenching around Gladio’s cock, threatening to wring Gladio’s climax out of him with the sheer force of his own. The cry he made, cracked and broken in the middle with years of suppressed emotions and sensations suddenly permitted and released, went straight to Gladio’s cock.

Gladio’s hips stuttered a little and he gasped, “Ig, I’m… I’m gonna… Fuck, you’re incredible… I…” His eyes screwed shut, and he thrust one last time and Ignis felt him release deep inside him.

Ignis cried out again at the rush of heat, though Gladio made no sound when he came. The alpha bowed his head, every steel muscle in his body solid and unshakable. His teeth grazed Ignis’ collarbone before he shifted slightly and pressed his forehead against Ignis’ skin, riding out the last of his colossal orgasm and clinging to Ignis as though he were the only thing tethering him to the planet.

Ignis, blissed out, somehow managed to cup the back of Gladio’s head and stroke his hair while he finished, purring and mewling softly into his ear.

“Gods,” Gladio whispered, finally beginning to stop spasming. “Gods, Ig, I’ve never…” He was short of breath like he’d run a mile at sprint. “Never come… like that. I don’t’ think even… in rut… I…”

“Shh,” Ignis crooned, stroking his hair with trembling fingers. “Later. Shh.”

With a smile, Gladio tried not to collapse completely on top of him, and rolled onto his side. They were still joined, and the position wasn’t hugely comfortable for either of them, but in time, Gladio’s knot released them, and Ignis rolled slightly onto his back, every inch of him hyper sensitive.

Every inch of him smelling of Gladio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has showed an interest in this story, left me amazing comments here on AO3, and who's come to screech at me on Tumblr about it too. Thank you so much. Also a huge thank you to tinycactus-tinyllama, who has been the most incredible supporter/screecher/beta-reader of this lot, who's given me a million ideas about this story and where it's going, and who does and says what. Seriously, thank her - it's as much her story as mine, and half of the best lines in chapters to come are hers.


	10. Aftershock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of the previous two weeks' events, Ignis does what Ignis does best and starts to over-think things. Gladio deals with the aftermath as best he can, but he turns to Prompto for some advice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a little vote on my Tumblr and people said they wanted more of this story, so here's 6000+ words of it for you!! Really hope you like it... *flings this at you and scuttles back into dark corner to cower under the blankets and keep writing the next bit!* Huge thank you to @tinycactus-tinyllama on Tumblr who's been my screeching buddy and excellent beta-reader for this. It wouldn't be half of what it is without her input :D.

As the delirious haze of his climax began to dissipate some time later, a languorous weightiness started to soak into Ignis’ limbs. Weak as water, and suddenly heavy as carved marble, Ignis let his body fall limply back into the sheets, sweat sticking his hair to the back of his neck, goosebumps shivering across his pale skin, his chest rising and falling with shallow, desperate breaths.

“You… ok?” Gladio asked tentatively when he returned to his senses as well. Pale, early daylight filtered through the curtains, lending a softness to Gladio’s rugged face. The gentleness in his eyes, however, was all his own. “Ig?”

Ignis nodded mutely. “Yes,” he gasped after a few moments. “I… forgive me. I’m just a little… overwhelmed…” he broke off with a nervous, embarrassed little laugh.

Gladio rolled onto his side again and raised his hand to sweep Ignis’ hair back out of his eyes. He ran his finger along Ignis’ sharp jawline, and pressed the pad of his thumb against Ignis’ lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, eyes almost glowing in the dawn light. He kissed the junction of Ignis’ jaw and neck, just below his ear, and rumbled contentedly. “You’ve always been beautiful, but now…”

Ignis winced as a flash of pain shot through him, unused as he was to taking an alpha’s cock, and he shifted slightly.

“Did I hurt you?” Gladio asked, those heavy brows buckling upwards in concern.

Ignis managed a smile. “No more than is perhaps to be expected,” he croaked, his breathing settling back to normal. His fingers found Gladio’s on the bed beside him, and he laced them, feeling Gladio clench tightly around him.

“That was incredible,” Gladio hissed. “Gods, don’t think I’ve never come like that…”

Ignis couldn’t help but smile at how right this felt with Gladio. The alpha no longer seemed to carry the weight of his former anger with him when he thought of Ignis, and for that, Ignis was grateful. He was sure Gladio was still hurt by his deception, but it was less prominent now that they had talked a little.

Gladio began to wrap his whole body around and against Ignis’ own, the mess on Ignis’ stomach smudging onto the hard ridges of his abs. When Ignis made a noise of disgust and distress at the sensation, and Gladio pulled back, chuckling. “Sorry,” he said. When his eyes fell on the clock on the bedside table, however, he jerked wildly and swore. “Shit! I’ve got to be at the Citadel in half an hour for a session with Noct.” He flew from the bed and then looked down at the state of his skin where Ignis’ release covered his abs.

“Shower. _Now_ ,” Ignis snarled, somehow making the sound threatening, despite being utterly naked, hair a mess, torso covered in slick and come, with Gladio’s release beginning to drip down the inside of his thighs and onto the sheets.

“But Princess will never let me hear the end of it if I’m late…” he grinned.

“And I’ll never forgive you if you go reeking of me – even if I smell mostly like a beta – to the citadel.”

“Too late for that, I think,” Gladio grinned as he bolted for Ignis’ shower, leaving Ignis lying there, eyes widening slowly, as he started to realise the implications of their morning’s activities.

He was on blockers, but how much was left in his system? Did he smell just like Ignis, or like an omega? He had no way of knowing. His heartbeat stuttered like a shying horse, and then began to pick up, galloping away with him.

So much had happened to him in the past twenty four hours.

Just the previous day he had been assaulted and marked by an alpha, then Gladio had marked him anew, and then that morning he’d been knotted by his best friend, an alpha of immense power and presence. It was quite the rollercoaster of events and sensations, all of them utterly alien to him. Emotions swirled in his chest as he replayed what little he could remember of his morning with Gladio. It all, strangely, seemed to blur together into a series of incredible highs, a touch here, a shock of sensation there.

And then he remembered rubbing himself all over Gladio. He had _marked_ Gladio.

Dimly, he recalled the time Gladio had come over to his apartment and had begun to smell him much earlier than seven o’clock, had become affected by him, and a flash of panic shot through him. Perhaps it was already too late?

Gnawing terror began to etch itself into his lungs, his windpipe, his stomach, but he lay there in a kind of rigor mortis of fear, barely hearing the shower, until Gladio emerged a while later.

“Iggy?” he heard Gladio’s voice only distantly. The bed dipped and he felt a palm on his cheek, turning him. “Ig, you ok?”

“Yes,” he said automatically, sitting up suddenly. He used the momentum to carry him forwards towards the bathroom, heedless of the fact that he was completely naked. The act of sitting up had torn his face from Gladio’s contact, and he felt strangely light-headed.

“I’ll… see you later then?” Gladio asked, sounding ever so slightly hurt.

Ignis turned in the doorway to look over his shoulder, one hand on the doorframe, and did his best to smile at Gladio. It wasn’t _his_ fault. _He_ wasn’t the one who had let his dynamic rule his brain, take over, cloud his own wit in a fog of pheromones… Gladio had been the one to put the brakes on it. Gladio had been the one who asked if this was what he wanted. Gladio, a raging alpha from a line of hugely potent alphas, had remained in control, while Ignis, after all his training and practice, had lost it almost instantly. Shame and disgust rose like bile in his throat. “I’ve got a busy day ahead of me.”

Gladio frowned a little, but nodded. “Ok,” he said, reaching down for the boxers he’d abandoned in the heat of the moment. “Sure. But Ig?”

Ignis stopped, the door almost closed. He cocked an eyebrow.

“You know I’ll keep your secret, right?”

“I trust you,” he replied.

“And… You don’t have to keep stuff from me anymore. I mean, you’re more than entitled to your privacy, but… I… uh… I’m not saying this very well, but you can trust me. You know that, right?”

Ignis sucked in a huge breath and held it. The whole room smelled of alpha, of Gladio, and faintly of something else he couldn’t quite place, which he supposed was his own chemicals, although they had no scent to him. He nodded once. “I appreciate it, Gladio. I really do. Don’t tarry…”

He rolled his golden eyes and grinned. “Ok. I don’t like leaving so soon though,” he smiled as he stepped into his jeans. “Wish I could stay.”

“You mean you wish I’d cook breakfast for you?” Ignis retorted, his habitually-defensive humour masking his unease.

“That too,” Gladio smirked, donning his tank once more. He took a deep breath and added, “Mmm, Ig… I’m still gonna be able to smell you on me all day…” He grinned, like it was a real treat.

Worry flashed across Ignis’ features again, but he turned away and closed the door before he could alarm Gladio. If he was going to have a panic attack, he didn’t want to have one in front of Gladio. He leaned against the cold wood of the bathroom door and breathed slowly.

The absence of Gladio’s alpha presence hit him like a crushing blow. As though the act of closing the door had cut a physical tie between them, he felt cast adrift, lost like a leaf in a whirlpool. He stood there in the bathroom, naked, and began to tremble. He felt _alone_ in a way he had never experienced before. Was this normal for recently-knotted omegas? Or was it another of his own failings? He had nothing to compare it to. Had he so long suppressed his omega nature that he didn’t know how to behave, what to do?

Scrabbling to regain control of his rapidly snowballing mind, he focused on the mundanity of getting ready. He’d heard Gladio call out to him one more time before the front door closed with a sizeable bang, but he’d not had the presence of mind to respond. Shakily, he stepped into the shower and turned the dial to cold.

Towelling his hair dry, he walked across his apartment half an hour later, heading for the kettle and his cafetiere.

He loved the ritual of making his morning coffee. Once the thick, sharp aroma of freshly-ground Ebony began to pervade the atmosphere, he started to feel a little better, but that lingering doubt, that teetering feeling of standing on the high ledge of a crumbling building, still haunted him.

He couldn’t help feeling this was a huge mistake.

All his life, all his adult, sexual life, he had hidden what he was. And in a few short weeks, _everything_ had changed. For some inexplicable reason, he had lost control of himself around Gladio. He thought back to that morning when Gladio had come over and surprised him. How easily he’d lost control and slicked himself at the mere sight of Gladio. How easily Gladio had been affected by him too. That was something that frightened Ignis. He contemplated calling in sick. And then he recalled his day full of meetings, beginning at 10am and continuing most of the day until five. He couldn’t miss those. No. He had to focus.

Somehow, however, he couldn’t help feeling like he was beginning to slither and slip at the top of a very tall and fast-moving avalanche.

And then, unexpectedly, he simply burst into tears. Clamping a hand over his mouth as though to stop the sounds, tears flooded from his eyes and he took his glasses off, clamping them so tightly between his fingers he was surprised they didn’t break. The panic that he’d so far managed to contain surged free, and he slipped down the cupboards, sinking to the floor and holding his hands over his eyes as pure, unbridled terror washed through him.

The euphoria of being with Gladio – something he’d often fantasised about for so many years, both in and out of heat – subsided and, in the absence of his alpha presence, left only fear.

It took him a good fifteen minutes to scrape himself back together again, and when he did, a strange, empty kind of calm descended on him, beginning in his chest and spreading up to his head. It was though his inner omega had had its panic and was now stepping into ‘damage-control mode’ for him.

He could forget all of this if he returned everything to normal.

That meant packing his bag, straightening his clothes, taking his gods-damned blockers and suppressants, and going about his work as normal.

Yes.

Work.

Normal.

He nodded to himself, cleaning his glasses with some washing up liquid under the tap. Cleaning his glasses always made him feel good. He loved the clarity of freshly cleaned lenses. Yes.

Yes this was a good step.

He didn’t have a training session scheduled that day.

He could spend all day in the citadel. He had meetings to concentrate on, and a quick catch up with Noctis, and then a council session from three til five. Yes. Busy. This was good.

 

***

 

Gladio strode down the corridor, unable to keep the grin from his face.

There was a bounce in his step for the first time in a fortnight. When Ignis had refused to speak to him after the birthday incident, he had thought he’d blown all his chances with him. He still felt a stinging flare of anguish when he recalled all the times he’d gone _alpha_ on Ignis without realising the effect it must have had on him, but with a little distance from it all, and after seeing Ignis’ iron resolve crumble when he’d found him after that alpha’s assault, Gladio felt a new respect for him. Ignis was so fucking strong. He’d never appreciated quite how strong before then. The thought of his strength immediately made Gladio’s cock throb like he as going into rut, which he couldn’t be because he’d had one under a month ago. Blessedly, he wasn’t due another for a further five months. He growled at himself to concentrate.

He had a morning of drilling Crownsguard initiates to get through first, and acting like a sex-drunk alpha wouldn’t help anything.

Even so, as he made his way to the Citadel later that day, his mind wandered back to that morning. Gods, Ignis had looked so beautiful unravelling beneath him.

He’d always admired Ignis’ grace and elegance, his calm composure in the face of Gladio’s rages about his father’s behaviour or Iris’ growing interest in the opposite sex, or whatever, but now that he knew Ignis was an omega, his admiration only deepened. Ignis definitely had to be the strongest person he’d ever met. He was incredible. He –

“Oi, Gladio!” a shout bounced off the walls and he looked around to see Nyx Ulric jogging to catch him up. The beads in his traditional Galadhian braids chinked softly as he joined him.

“Nyx,” Gladio smiled. “S’up?”

“Need to catch you later about security for the Nox Fleurets’ visit,” he said.

“They’re coming back again so soon? They were only just here for the prince’s birthday,” Gladio said.

Nyx nodded along the corridor. “You headed to the palace?” he asked. “I’ll walk with you. Got a meeting with Drautos.”

They fell into an easy stride together, the Glaive and the shield resuming their conversation as they walked. Though Nyx was shorter than Gladio, he matched him almost stride for stride. “Yeah,” Nyx said, “They’re coming on some diplomatic thing this time – don’t ask me what,” he added flippantly, “But the Glaive’s gonna do security this time, not the ‘Guard, so it’s up to me to organise a draft, then take the plan to Drautos.”

“Ok, so where do I fit in?”

Nyx grinned, flashing his white teeth. Everyone assumed that Nyx Ulric, star and hero of the Galahdians in the Glaive, would be an alpha, but he was not. He had no secondary canines, and usually had very little scent. For a beta though he was forward and sassy, and he fought like ten alley cats all tied up in a sack. He was vicious and deadly. He also had a wicked sense of humour. Gladio liked him.

Nyx was already talking again, and Gladio wrenched his brain back into gear. “… handover of the last security briefing you lot came up with,” Nyx was saying. “Cor said Scientia came up with a flaw in the rotations, which is pretty cool, so we figured why not just have a quick meeting with both the Glaive and the Guard to talk things over…”

“Fair enough,” Gladio nodded. “What time?”

“1500, in the small board room on the first floor,” Nyx said.

“I’ll be there,” Gladio confirmed.

As they rounded a corner, Gladio’s face split into a warm smile at the sight of the figure approaching.

He didn’t even notice that the prince was there until they was almost on top of him. Ignis looked more beautiful than he could ever recall seeing him. His golden eyes tracked their progress as they neared him, but as they got closer and closer, Ignis showed no signs of looking at him, of acknowledging him.

Something began to drill into Gladio’s confidence with the efficacy of a tunnel-bore, his assuredness fracturing under the pressure. “Ig?” he called softly when Ignis was no more than three paces from him.

Ignis looked up then, and Gladio gasped at the coldness in his green eyes. Ignis nodded once at the pair of them, and continued along the corridor without breaking stride.

“Ouch,” Nyx hissed when Noctis and his advisor had disappeared off down a different corridor, lined with portraits of past kings and queens. He dug Gladio playfully in the ribs. “Talk about a classic beta cold shoulder…”

“What?” Gladio asked, still baffled by Ignis’ apparent 180 turn in behaviour.

“Come on,” Nyx scoffed, “Don’t tell me you’ve never been with a beta before!”

“I don’t understand,” Gladio said, still scowling. “And of course I have, but…”

“Betas might be fun in the sack,” he said, shifting his shoulders a little, “But they’re hardly known for cuddly aftercare…”

“What?” Gladio’s mind was stubbornly refusing to let go of the image of Ignis’ stern expression.

“You fucked him,” Nyx stated.

“It’s that obvious?”

“You reek of him,” he grinned. “I mean, I can smell it because I’m standing this close to you,” he said, leaning right in and patting Gladio’s chest right about where the head of his eagle tattoo was, “But that doesn’t mean a beta’s gonna be up for more than a single quick fuck to scratch an itch, you know?”

“I…” Gladio suddenly realised he needed to pull himself together, and, now scowling, he nodded at Nyx. “You’re right.”

“Who’d have thought Ice Cold Scientia was such a good fuck,” Nyx commented, “To have an Amicitia alpha all love drunk, eh?”

“Shut up,” Gladio warned.

“Seriously though, who topped?”

Gladio snapped, pinning Nyx against the wall and flashing his alpha teeth in his face. “I said, shut up. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Nyx’s knees wobbled as Gladio’s alpha scent rushed at him, and he licked his lips, baring his neck ever so slightly. A sweetness, like burning maple wood, and moss on sun-warmed river rocks began to fill the air between them, until Nyx bit his lip, smacked Gladio’s arm away and drove the heel of his hand into Gladio’s sternum.

Winded, and slightly surprised, Gladio stepped back.

“Lighten up, Amicitia,” Nyx growled as he walked away down the corridor, hips swaying rhythmically. “Though you might wanna try bottoming some day. It’s good for alphas to take it sometimes, even if there’s no knot…”

Gladio’s low, angry growl echoed off the stone walls, but Nyx only laughed and flipped him off as he headed towards Drautos’ citadel office.

Gladio should have relished his private session with Cor early that evening, but even Cor noted his heightened aggression. “Dial it back, Gladio,” he called, easily blocking another colossal blow from Gladio’s sword. “We’re still warming up.” A few minutes later, he growled, “Stop hacking at me and use that head of yours.”

Gladio hurled the wooden sword down on the ground and turned away to get a drink, chest heaving. He knew Ignis was private, but he hadn’t had to be so _hostile_. Had Gladio fucked up that morning? Had he taken things too far? Did Ignis resent him for taking his virginity like that? Was there more he could have done?

A hand fell heavy on his shoulder, and he looked around to see Cor’s icy blue eyes staring at him. Alpha or not, Cor was the calmest person Gladio had ever met. “What’s going on?”

“How do you do it, Marshal?” Gladio asked, sweat beading on his forehead, despite having barely completed the warm up.

“Do what, Gladio?” Cor asked in that rich, steady voice of his.

His palm sat hot on Gladio’s skin, and he focused on the sensation a moment to ground him. Cor’s rich, spicy scent, like split pine logs and cordite, washed around him, and he breathed it quietly in.

“Stay so level-headed all the time,” Gladio sighed after a few steadying breaths.

“I wasn’t always like this,” Cor admitted with a rueful chuckle. He patted Gladio’s shoulder and stepped back. “I was a lot more like you and your father, especially when I was younger.”

“So what changed?”

He sighed. “Not something I really wanna talk about with you, kid,” he said. There was an odd light in his eyes, and Gladio wondered what could have affected the Marshal so deeply. “Suffice it to say I encountered someone who changed my whole outlook on life. Maybe I’ll tell you one day, but for now,” Cor said, adopting a ready stance again and lifting his katana, “Again. _Properly_ this time.”

Gladio found his focus, though it felt like holding water in cupped fingers, and he left the gym with the edge taken off his irritation and worry. It also helped that he was _exhausted._ Cor had driven him harder than he had ever pushed Gladio in his entire training. He was bruised and winded, his chest hurt when he breathed in too deeply, and every muscle either cramped or ached, both in some cases, just in keeping him on his feet.

A familiar waft of moss and campfire smoke hit his nostrils as he left the showers and he looked up to see Nyx dressing after his own shower. During their earlier meeting about the Nox Fleurets’ visit, Nyx had largely ignored him, and Gladio had sat there in a foul mood, which probably contributed to his build-up of anger and subsequent shambles of a training session with Cor. Taking a deep breath, Gladio adjusted the knot of the towel around his hips and nodded politely at Nyx when the Glaive met his eye.

Nyx returned the gesture, slipping a grey t-shirt over his head, thickly corded muscles of his lean body bunching and rippling. He had a tiny tattoo on his neck, but the rest of his torso was unmarked by ink. There were a few bite marks however, and some bruises that clearly did not come from weapons training, and Gladio couldn’t resist cocking an eyebrow at them.

Nyx smirked when he caught the gesture, then nodded pointedly to a series of long, pink scratches that ran up Gladio’s chest, obviously older than the fresh, red welts and purpling bruises from Cor. And just like that, the tension broke with a shared chuckle.

“Nyx,” Gladio said, opening his locker and taking out his bag. He turned and dumped it on the central bench, pausing to speak before rummaging around for clean clothes. “I’m sorry I lost it earlier.”

The Glaive only waved a hand. “I pushed when I shouldn’t have. I’m a shit sometimes when it comes to sex. It’s… just who I am. I’m sorry. It was none of my business.”

Gladio sighed and laughed awkwardly, stuffing his boxers on while Nyx turned away politely. If his scent deepened at what Gladio was doing, sweetened slightly, then Gladio could pretend to ignore it.

“Look,” Nyx mumbled a moment later, still not facing him. “A few of the Glaives and I are gonna go out to The Riverbend tomorrow. You should come.”

“That’s the tavern down by the gorge, right?”

He nodded. “Bring whoever you like too,” Nyx added lightly as he crossed to the door, and without waiting for an answer, he vanished.

 _Bring whoever you like_. He’d clearly meant Ignis, though whether Ignis would even talk to him long enough to get him to ask him was another matter. Anger surged again, charging through his veins like a fighting bull in a tunnel, and he clenched his teeth. It wasn’t his fault. Why was Ignis punishing him?

His mood blackened again, all his hard work with Cor evaporating, and he strode from the training centre. He knew he ought to check in with Noct before he went back to the Amicitia Mansion, but he knew Ignis would probably be with him, and that only made his jaw grind.

He’d just pulled out his phone to text Noct to say he was going home, when he collided with someone short, light, and blond. With a yip of alarm, Prompto bounced off Gladio like a rubber ball and fell hard onto his backside.

“Ow, watch it, big guy!” he grunted, winded and surprised.

“Prom!” he gasped, shoving his phone into a pocket and holding out a hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“Weren’t looking, more like,” Prompto grumbled, accepting the hand and allowing himself to be yanked back to his feet. The motion pulled him closer to Gladio than normal, and when he caught Gladio’s sharp, acrid scent, Prompto’s huge blue eyes shot up to his face. “You ok?”

Gladio sighed. “Not here, Prom,” he said, looking around.

The training centre was emptying at this hour, the lobby echoing and deserted, but still, he wasn’t about to start talking about his personal life in the open vestibule of the barracks.

“I’m just headed up to Noct’s rooms,” Prompto said. “I came to use the shooting gallery,”  he added with a grin. “Bullseyed everything.”

“That’s great,” Gladio grinned, alpha teeth showing as his pride swelled for the kid.

Prompto caught the sight of them and bit his lip, eyes obviously lingering on them. The sweetness of icing sugar whipped momentarily before he blushed and turned away. They walked together towards the exit. “Erm… You… wanna come up to Noct’s rooms? We could talk there if you like? He won’t be back from a meeting with his dad til later.”

“Is Iggy there?”

Prompto’s blond brows knitted together a moment. “Is that what this is about? You guys ok?”

“Not here,” Gladio repeated. “But yeah. I… I could use your… _expert_ advice, if you catch my drift.”

Prompto did, and he rolled his eyes, putting a hand squarely on the centre of Gladio’s chest. The huge alpha came to an abrupt halt at the gesture, warm eyes trained curiously on Prompto’s face. “We’re not all the same, you know?” the omega hissed, so quietly that even Gladio barely heard him.

“I know, but… Prom… please?” his eyes went wide, brows buckling upwards. “I don’t understand _at all_. I… I’d really appreciate your… perspective on things… Even just… you know… having someone to talk to about all this.”

“Fine, ok,” Prompto smiled. “And gee, ease up a bit will you?” he added, stepping back and sniffing ostentatiously. “You’re kinda… _intense_ right now, if you know what I mean.”

Gladio took a deep breath and tried to rein himself in. Sure, Ignis had been through one hell of a ride in the past couple of weeks, but Gladio hadn’t had the easiest time of it either. He’d barrelled out of a rut into the realisation that Ignis was an omega. Then all the fallout from that had left him confused and drained. Just when he’d thought he’d made a step forward with Ignis – and what a huge step it had been – he found himself right back where he had been after the initial incident. It was infuriating.

All of that spilled out of him when they were sitting alone on the sofa in Noct’s citadel rooms. “I guess… I never imagined I’d be in this position,” he said finally. He sat with his elbows on his knees, picking at a scab on his knuckle, and fell silent, eyes on a blank pad of paper and an empty coffee mug on the table in front of him. He could just make out the imprint of Ignis’ immaculate handwriting on the white paper.

Prompto took a huge breath. “Ok, first of all, I don’t think you need me to tell you what a _huge_ deal it is for Ignis, for people – even us – to know about his dynamic.”

Gladio shook his head, still not looking at Prompto.

Prompto swallowed. “Good. So… when he was… you know… in heat, in here,” he glanced over his shoulder at the door to Noct’s bedroom behind them, “He was so worried that he would be taken away from Noct, that he wouldn’t be taken seriously if people knew…”

“Yeah, he said the same to me last night,” Gladio said, and then he realised something. “Oh Astrals, you don’t know what happened last night, do you?”

“What happened?” Prompto asked, a thrill of fear running through his scent.

“Iggy went out to a bar, and got… _marked_ by some alpha.”

Prompto went very, _very_ still, horror fixing his face into a porcelain mask. “He got _bitten?_ ” he finally whispered, fingers clenching into tiny fists in his lap.

“No,” Gladio breathed. “No, thank the gods, but he did get scented.”

Prompto shuddered and even let out a tiny mewl. Instinctively, Gladio pushed a reassuring scent, and Prompto offered him a watery smile in gratitude. “That’s the last thing he needed after all this…” Prompto said after a moment. “Was he… ok?”

“Iggy beat the crap out of him, apparently, but he went into shock when he got home.”

Prompto’s face split into a wide grin. “That’s our Iggy, huh? Sticking it to the alpha! Uh… no offence…”

Gladio managed to rumble an amused laugh. “None taken. I’m just glad nothing worse happened. I stayed with him, we talked a bit… It was nice, you know? I felt like… I thought…” his voice caught in his throat. “I thought we reached a kind of understanding…” He scratched the back of his neck unconsciously. “I _thought_ things were good, but…”

Prompto stayed very quiet and still, waiting for Gladio to continue, occasionally blinking. Gladio was worrying his lip with his teeth so hard Prompto thought he’d draw blood if he didn’t speak up. “But what?”

“This morning,” Gladio said, suddenly embarrassed. “We… I… I didn’t mean for it to happen, but… I shouldn’t have stayed over, but I couldn’t bear to leave him… and then… and we…”

Prompto barked a shrill laugh. “You mean you found out how needy an omega can be in the morning, right?”

Gladio blushed.

“It’s ok, Gladio. Did… Did Iggy say he didn’t want it?”

Flashes of Ignis, blissed out, mouth open and mewling, flitted across his memory. His scent told Prompto all he needed to know.

“Well, there you go then,” Prompto laughed, relaxing. “What’s the problem?”

“He pretty much blanked me in the corridor this morning. We still smell of each other – there’s no hiding what we did – but he would have blanked me completely if I hadn’t called out to him.”

“What did you say, ‘Oi, Iggy, can’t shake your fucked-face from my alpha-brain’?” Prompto laughed, deepening his voice to mimic Gladio’s gravelly bass.

“Course not!” Gladio growled, head snapping up to meet Prompto squarely in the eye.

Prompto only trilled another laugh, and the tension bled out of Gladio’s shoulders with a sigh.

“I just said his name.”

“Ok, look,” Prompto sighed. “He’s probably just freaking out. I mean, the first time Noct knotted me, I –”

“ – Noct’s _knotted_ you?” Gladio blurted.

“Ah, yeah…” Prompto faltered. “Yeah. He…”

“Please tell me you guys took precautions,” Gladio hissed.

“Yes, _dad_ ,” Prompto chuckled. “I’m on meds, and I’ve not been with anyone else, and I was his first too. It’s cool. No royal bastards, don’t worry.” Gladio didn’t seem all that impressed with his joke, and Prompto put his hand on Gladio’s huge thigh, pushing his scent. “ _Relax_ , Gladio,” he said, more than a hint of _omega_ in his tone. “And we were talking about you and Ignis…?”

“You brought it up,” Gladio pouted.

“I did,” Prompto said, “But I was just gonna say that after Noct knotted me, we were together for like the whole weekend, but there was this one point when he had to go to a meeting, and it brought up all my insecurities and everything. When he went, I… I was a bit of a mess. He came back and found me curled up on the couch wearing, like, three layers of his clothes…”

Gladio frowned, replaying his hasty, panicked exit. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh what?”

“I… I had to leave for a session with Noct this morning.”

“Ah.”

“Did I fuck up, Prom?”

Prompto shook his head, a section of his blond hair falling into his eyes. He pushed it away, and Gladio was struck by how delicate and fragile his tiny wrist was, despite the thick cuff he always wore. “Ok, so here’s what you’re gonna do. Don't treat him any differently just yet. Give him maybe the rest of the day to calm down a bit, and then be, like, soft and sweet, but don't do anything that's gonna make him nervous in public.”

“So, calling his name earlier was a mistake?” Gladio’s face was serious, utterly nonplussed, but Prompto looked like he was a heartbeat away from bursting out laughing. He couldn’t fault Gladio for caring.

“Maybe?” Prompto said. “I mean, I smelled you on him earlier – you marked him yourself, didn’t you?”

Gladio nodded. “Took the scent of the other guy away after it happened.”

“You marked him _yesterday_?” Prompto asked, surprised. “Gee, it was still pretty strong on him earlier…”

“My scent was pretty… strong… this morning. I wanted to mark him again. Guess my body pushed the scent out anyway and it stuck…”

Prompto agreed. “Well, he marked you too, if what I’m smelling on you is Ignis…”

“Wait, do I smell of omega?” Gladio asked, panic flaring.

Prompto leaned cautiously closer. “You mind?”

Gladio shook his head, and Prompto put his fingers on Gladio’s shoulders to steady himself as he sniffed his skin. “You don’t smell of _omega_ so much as you smell of Iggy,” he began. “But it’s maybe sweeter? Still can’t tell the dynamic though, but anyone who knows Iggy’s scent will know –” He got no further than that because the door opened and Noctis walked through.

“The hell are you doing, Prompto?” he asked when he saw them, a jealous and protective scent filling the room instantly.

“C’mere and smell Gladio,” Prompto said without rising to Noct’s reaction.

“Why would I want to do that?” Noctis asked, stalking across the sylleblossom-blue rug and plonking himself down next to Prompto on the long sofa. His hand fell to grip Prompto’s slim thigh. He nuzzled his nose against Prompto’s scent gland, then began sucking and nipping without actually biting. He pushed out his own scent, like champagne and cut grass, and Prompto shivered, releasing Gladio and falling softly back against Noctis with a gasping whine.

“You mind?” Gladio complained, shuffling away a bit.

The sweetness of Prompto’s scent peaked and became something else, a desperate longing to be mated, to be bonded, so strong that even Gladio felt a tug. “Noct,” Prompto panted, “Stop, stop, please… I… _a-ah_ …”

Noct rubbed his scent gland over Prompto’s neck and then sat back, glaring at Gladio. “So why was Prom sniffing you?” he asked, as though there wasn’t an unravelled omega sprawled against his chest.

“Rude,” Prompto remarked, eyes on Noct’s face. He swallowed and pushed himself upright. Growling softly, the omega brought his lips to the delicate curve of Noct’s neck, and, carefully right below his scent glands, bit him. _Hard_.

Noctis yelped, and Prompto let go with a satisfied huff.

“You deserved that,” Gladio remarked, standing and cracking out his neck. The atmosphere had got very close since the prince’s return, and he moved to the window to open it.

“Yes you did,” Prompto agreed sullenly. “I was actually just checking Gladio to see if Ignis’ scent smelled _omega_ -y or just… Iggy-y…”

“I’m sorry,” Noct sighed, lacing his fingers with Prompto’s. “Long day. Tough meeting with my dad. Really, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything…”

Prompto smiled, the sweetness returning to his scent after the slight souring of indignation. “So, go sniff him. You’re an alpha – see if you can smell any omega on him.”

Noctis inhaled resignedly and levered himself off the sofa. “You ok with that, big guy?”

“Sure,” Gladio smiled. It was cute how protective Noctis was of Prompto, and how feisty Prompto was in return. It was clear that they adored each other. Now that there was no need for Noctis to wed Lunafreya, perhaps the two of them might even be allowed… His smile softened further and he offered his neck freely to Noctis, who ignored it and moved instead to sniff cautiously at his chest.

Gladio stayed in the submissive pose, glands exposed, hands loosely at his sides, while Noct inhaled his scent for a bit and then shrugged. “I can smell him, and I think half the palace can smell that you two fucked recently, but no. Just smells like Ignis to me, but maybe I'm used to it?”

Prompto nodded, more serious now, and added, “Yeah, I didn’t smell any omega. Maybe it’s a little... softer than Iggy’s usual smell, but that's it.”

Noctis was quiet for a while, but Gladio and Prompto could both see the cogs turning as he stood there beside the window, the breeze blowing his warm scent inwards. It was still protective, Gladio noted.

Prompto sat there, unusually still, big eyes watching his alpha think things through.

Then Noctis’ brain finally seemed to click, and he narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be back later,” he said. He crossed back to Prompto and ran his fingertips tenderly around his omega’s face before adding with a quiet, rare alpha purr, “Promise.”

“You ok?” Gladio asked. “Where you headed?”

Noct turned slowly, calmly, but the authority that washed off him held even Gladio in place. It was rare to see Noctis acting as an alpha. The power of the Caelum bloodline coursed through him, and although his irises hadn’t flared a rich pink as they often did when he submitted completely to his inner alpha, they were full of silent warning. _I’m going alone. Do not question me on this._

Gladio reluctantly bowed his head. A second later, he bared his neck again. “Be careful, huh?” was all he added as Noctis strode from the room.

Prompto let out a shivering breath and remained on the sofa. Gladio could smell his slick clearly.

“You text me when he gets back, ok?” Gladio said without turning to look at the omega.

“Y-Yeah,” he said hazily. His breathing was ragged. “Gods,” he hissed.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” Prompto swallowed. “I just… I don’t know how Iggy does it, you know?”

Gladio risked a glance down at Prompto, and saw the effect that the roiling emotion of two alphas in close proximity had had on the omega. His cheeks were flushed, his cock was obviously hard, and his hips jerked upwards as though he was just _aching_ to take himself in hand.

Gladio smiled sadly and padded towards the door. “I don’t know how he does it either.”


	11. Step Together, Step Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis has been suffering from alpha-withdrawal, which he took out on Gladio too, and, in classic Ignis style, caused the omega to over-think everything. With a little help from their friends, however, Ignis and Gladio finally come to understand each other, and spend their first domestic evening together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all your comments. I honestly cannot express just how happy it makes me that so many people are kudos-ing and commenting on this story, and getting involved. More thanks, as ever, to the beautiful and creative @tinycactus-tinyllama over on Tumblr for her ideas, her screechings, and her support.

Ignis moved quietly about his apartment and tried to ignore the lingering smell of Gladio in the air. He’d opened all the windows, and it was chilly, even for a late summer evening. That, he mused, should keep his still-vaguely-jangling omega quiet at any rate.

The washing machine was on its final spin, but his bed still smelled of sex. It might take a while for that to fade. Even the fabric spray he’d bought a while ago, which was especially designed to neutralise dynamic scents, was not enough to shake Gladio from the mattress it seemed.

He’d actively had to stop himself from putting the sheets to his nose when he’d stripped the bed on returning home. After some careful searches on Moogle – incognito mode – after Gladio had left, he’d discovered that the reason he had panicked and had been feeling so off-kilter this time was, once _again_ , due to his omega nature. More specifically, he was suffering from alpha-withdrawal.

Basically, he was pining.

 _Perfect_. Ignis Scientia, advisor to Noctis Lucis Caelum and future chamberlain to the king, was _pining_ for an alpha after being knotted for the first time.

At that, he had felt truly pathetic; utterly at the mercy of his own biology. The fact that that meant it wasn’t technically his fault made little difference. He felt like all that relentless training had been for naught. Like he might as well have stripped down in front of the citadel and run wild, screaming that he was an omega for the whole of Insomnia to hear. Of course, he’d reeled his brain in in time, and begun to focus on pulling himself together. Cold logic and a steel self-will would get him through the day as it always had before. Well, on all occasions but one, but Noct’s birthday party was an absolute exception.

And then he’d met Gladio in the corridor by chance, and had honestly never felt so conflicted in all his life.

A sound made him jump and he looked up from the email he’d been staring at for the past fifteen minutes without really seeing. As the perpetually over-worked washing machine howled its last cycle, he frowned. The doorbell? His stomach sank, and he hoped it wasn’t Gladio, but he steeled himself anyway and answered it.

To his absolute surprise, Noctis stood in the corridor, alone. “Noct,” he breathed. “What…?”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Ignis said, immediately stepping to one side to let him pass. “You’re alone. Everything alright?”

“I should have asked you that,” Noctis mumbled, shoulders slumping as he came to a halt at the end of the short hallway and toed his shoes off. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning to face him. “ _Are_ you ok?”

“I… I’m fine,” he said, but when Noctis growled ever so softly, he sighed. “I will be. I… I just…” Ignis looked away and strode past Noctis into the living room.

On hearing the washing machine beep at him, signalling it had finished its final spin and was ready to be dealt with, he began to head to the small kitchen, but Noctis grabbed his arm gently. “Specs,” he said. “Seriously, you’ve been closed-off and weird all day. I know you and Gladio fucked. Did he hurt you?”

“No,” Ignis said instantly. “No, of course not.”

“Then what’s bothering you so bad?”

“Badly,” Ignis corrected automatically. “It’s an adverb.”

 Noctis raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Fine,” Ignis sighed. “Fine, I panicked.”

“Why?”

“It all got a bit… _much_ to deal with.”

“Did you tell him that?”

Ignis looked confused. “No, but…” Realisation spread slowly across his face. “Oh dear. Is he very upset with me?”

“He’s just confused, Ig,” Noct said, flopping down onto the end of the sofa and drawing his knees up. “I found him talking to Prompto a while ago. I don’t know what they said, but he seemed… stressed.”

“Oh Astrals,” Ignis hissed, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. “What a bloody mess this is all turning into.”

“Hey,” Noct crooned, patting the cushions beside him. “Come sit.”

“I have to deal with the laundry,” Ignis began, but Noct rumbled another soft warning. “Noctis,” he said, more insistently this time.

“Ignis, for fuck’s sake, will you please come here? The washing’s not gonna explode or get dirty again if you leave it for five minutes.”

Ignis blinked. “Of course,” he said, “Apologies.”

“Don’t apologise, Ignis,” Noct said. As Ignis sank gracefully, if a little stiffly, onto the couch, Noctis wrapped his arm around his middle and snuggled up against him.

“Noct?”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled from somewhere near Ignis’ bellybutton.

Ignis moved his un-gloved hands to stroke through Noctis’ thick, dark hair, feeling the prince relax at the touch that had once been so-often given when he was a child, before Ignis had presented. “Why are you sorry, Noct?”

Noctis blew out a short breath. “I just carried on like nothing had happened after your heat. I know you asked me to, but still. I should have checked you were ok. You’ve been through a lot, and I just… ignored it.”

“Oh Noctis,” he chuckled. “Really, it’s alright. I just… This is a new side to my omega nature that I’ve not had to deal with until now. It’s… _odd_ , having people know – _knowing_ that people know, at any rate. It’ll just take time for me to… adjust.”

“You need to talk to Gladio,” Noct muttered.

“I do.”

“Like, tonight.”

Ignis sighed.

“I mean it,” Noct said, turning his face away from Ignis’ stomach so that his words weren’t quite so muffled and he could breathe a little better. “I think Prom had to use his omega influence to calm him a bit. I could smell it when I walked in.” He laughed at the memory of the jealousy that had flared in him when he’d seen his omega snuffling up against Gladio’s neck.

“Oh Astrals, what a mess,” Ignis said, patting Noct’s shoulder gently. “Alright. But please, for the love of Eos, will you let me sort my washing?”

Noctis laughed and pulled back, sitting upright, his cheeks a little pink. “I missed you, Ignis,” he smiled.

A little frown flickered in the centre of Ignis’ slender brows, but it quickly faded. “I’m sorry. I missed this as well.”

“Go on. Sort your laundry before you have an aneurism,” Noctis grinned.

“Yes, _Highness_ ,” Ignis said, rising and giving an obsequious bow that made Noctis laugh. It was good to hear Noctis laugh. He’d been so serious, stressed even, since leaving school and stepping into his role as the Crown Prince.

When he returned, arms full with damp, pristine white sheets, Noctis stood and, without a word, helped him hang them over the drying rack in the corner.

When they were done, he looked at Ignis over the top of the draped fabric and said, “Look, I know you don’t like to talk about personal stuff, but you… you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother. Before Prom, you were my only real friend. You put up with so much shit from me –” Ignis pouted softly at his choice of language, but remained otherwise silent “– and I want you to… to feel like you can talk to me, or Prom, or someone about this.”

Ignis closed his eyes. This was what, over the past four years, he’d dreamed of, and never dared hope for: someone to talk to. Someone who _knew_ and didn’t judge. He bit his lip. It was alright. It was alright to let go. He _needed_ to let go. He needed to trust these three. They’d not abandoned him yet. They wanted him to trust them with more. He could do this. He could cope with people knowing. It wouldn’t make him weaker, and it wouldn’t change anything.

He nodded. “Thank you, Noctis,” he began falteringly. “I… I will bear that in mind…”

Noctis raised his eyebrow again.

“I wish I’d never taught you how to do that,” Ignis remarked. “It’s most unsettling.”

“Learned from the best, Specs,” he said.

The prince’s phone pinged at him and he dredged it from a pocket with a groan.

“You didn’t tell anyone you were coming here, did you?” Ignis said reproachfully, reading Noct’s expression.

“I told Gladio not to come with me,” he hedged. Then he showed the message to Ignis.

_Prompto: INCOMING_

“Incoming?” Ignis asked

“Either Prom’s about to send me a dick pic, or my dad rallied the Crownsguard.”

“Goodness,” Ignis snorted, half turning away. “As much as I’m grateful you two are close, I did not need to know he sends you dick pics.”

“Please don’t say ‘dick pics’ ever again,” Noct muttered, though he was smiling.

They laughed and spoke for a little while longer, mostly talking about how it was ok for Ignis to admit, _finally_ , that he had feelings for Gladio, because Gladio sure as hell had feelings for Ignis.

Just as Noctis put his glass of squash back on the table, his phone rang again, and he cursed softly when he saw who was calling. Punching the answer button, he drawled, “Relax, dad, I’m with Ignis at his… Yeah I know… I… I’m… Yeah. Ok. Fine.” He slid it back into his pocket and looked sheepishly at Ignis.

“How much trouble are we in this time?” Ignis smiled fondly.

“Dad panicked. He rallied the hounds… They’ll be here in ten.”

“Five.”

“You wanna bet?” Noct asked.

Ignis nodded. “Why not?”

“Stakes?”

“You eat an entirely vegetarian meal if I’m right.”

The prince’s resolve wavered visibly.

“Come now, Noctis,” Ignis smiled. “You can’t back down now.”

He rolled his sapphire blue eyes and grinned. “Fine, whatever. What do I get if I win?”

“You won’t.”

Four minutes and fifty-eight seconds later, Ignis’ doorbell went.

“Fuck,” was all the prince had to say to that.

Ignis laughed lovingly and watched his friend go. Before Noctis had passed out of sight down the corridor, accompanied by Monica and another member of the Crownsguard, Ignis called out to him. “Thank you, Noct.”

The prince turned to look back at him over his shoulder and offered him one of his little lopsided smiles and a barely-there nod.

Left alone in his apartment once more, Ignis picked up his phone and inhaled once for courage. The phone rang four times before it was answered, and Gladio’s surprised voice uttered his name.

Before he lost all his nerve, Ignis blurted, “Gladio, can we talk?”

“Uhh, sure…?” He didn’t sound upset. If anything just he sounded groggy and tired.

“In person?” Ignis added hopefully.

“My dad and sis are downstairs.” After a moment he added, “You want me to come over?”

“Would you mind?”

“I’m dog-tired, so as long as you don’t mind if I look like shit…”

“Thank you,” Ignis said. “I doubt you could ever look like shit.”

Gladio barked a laugh at that, which Ignis returned a little breathlessly. “I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard you swear, Iggy,” he chortled. “I’ll just get some proper clothes on.”

“No rush. And Gladio?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I panicked. I'm sorry.”

He chuckled, a warm sound, low in his throat that went right to Ignis’ core, relief flooding in to take the place of the lingering, nauseous apprehension that had plagued him all day.

Gladio spoke again, softly and affectionately. “I'll see you in a bit, ok?”

“Yes.”

“And Ig?”

“Yes?”

“Stop stressing. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Would… Would you like to stay for supper?”

“Yeah,” he said, and there was the sound of his hand scratching his stubble. “Sure. Should I bring an overnight bag this time, or would you rather I didn’t?”

“I… I think I’d like it very much if you stayed,” he said, heartbeat hammering at the base of his throat, “But please don’t feel obliged to if –”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to, Iggy,” he said with a fond sternness that spoke volumes of how well he knew Ignis’ character. After all, they had been best friends since they were about seven and eight years old respectively.

“Right.”

“See ya.”

Ignis took his mind off Gladio’s imminent arrival by prepping some vegetables for dinner. He had just finished slicing the courgettes to precise, paper thin discs just as the doorbell went. He turned the gas off where he was also browning some mince, and moved to let Gladio in.

Opening the door, he inhaled softly at the sight of Gladio. His hair was tied back in a messy bun in just the way Ignis had always adored, and he wore a dark, long-sleeved t-shirt that hugged his body beautifully without being obscene. Ignis took in the softly-rumpled, slightly-ripped, pale jeans, and the leather belt around his slim waist, and felt his body beginning to react already. Then Gladio smiled, and Ignis almost burst into tears.

Yes, this really was going to be alright.

“Come in,” he croaked.

“Smells good,” Gladio said, nodding politely at him as he took his shoes off. A small black sports bag hung from his fingers. “Where’d you want me to put this?”

“Gladio,” Ignis said flatly, staring him straight in the eye. “I’m sorry. You know exactly where you can put that bag. I’m hardly going to make you sleep on the sofa. I… believe I suffered from something common to many omegas after they’ve been knotted, particularly for the first time, but it was unfair of me to make you suffer as well.”

Gladio regarded him for a long second, then he shook his head and scooped an arm around Ignis’ shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace. “You don’t have to do everything alone any more, Ignis,” he said, kissing Ignis on the side of the head.

Ignis melted into the touch and dared to bring his fingers up to rest on Gladio’s chest. His other hand moved to the small of Gladio’s strong back, and he snuck his fingertips up beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Gladio pulled back and grinned. He did look tired. There were shadows under his eyes and the whites around his warm irises were tinged with pink.

“Long day as well?” Ignis asked as he moved back to the open kitchen area.

“Cor beat my ass black and blue earlier,” Gladio grunted, slouching off to the only bedroom in the modest apartment. When he returned, he regarded Ignis carefully with steady, amber eyes. “Ignis, I’m really sorry I had to go this morning. You know I’d have stayed if I could, right?”

Ignis stirred the fragrant mince and decided it was brown enough for his purposes. Decanting it into a glass oven dish, he began to layer the courgette over the top. He’d chosen this apparently simple meal for a reason, but he wasn’t sure Gladio would understand the subtlety of his decision. That didn’t matter though. It was all about the symbolism in Ignis’ mind.

“I do, Gladio, I really do,” he said, fingers deftly laying the discs of courgette on top of one another like fish-scales with the rapidity of a poker dealer dealing cards. “But you don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass all of a sudden.”

His green eyes snapped up and met Gladio’s. Meeting the alpha’s gaze really was like looking into the dying embers of a fire. “I just don’t want to fuck this all up,” Gladio said, not looking at all like the bolshie twenty-one year old he usually was. His lips quirked into an uncertain grimace. “I… I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Yeah, sure, I’ve had flings with people, but I just figured you weren’t interested in me. Iggy…”

Ignis set down the wooden spoon and rounded the counter. He crossed the six paces to where Gladio stood rooted to the spot, and brought his hand gingerly up to Gladio’s strong jaw. A muscle was pulsing in Gladio’s neck. Ignis thumbed his cheekbone gently and smiled. “I never dared,” was all he said.

Gladio leaned down, his insecure eyes silently seeking Ignis’ permission, and when Ignis’ smile broadened, crinkling the corners of his eyes in that way they only did when he was truly happy, Gladio kissed him.

He kissed him so tenderly that Ignis forgot how to breathe.

His scent blossomed thick and sweet and rich around them, though he could only sense the mirror of it in Gladio’s. While there was intense desire there, it was layered beneath something else, something stronger and broader that Ignis couldn’t place, but to which his omega instantly responded on a very deep level.

He kissed Gladio until he thought he might just cry with relief.

Gladio’s fingers worked through Ignis’ hair, catching his glasses a couple of times. The third time it happened, Gladio pulled back, laughing, and drew them off Ignis’ face entirely. Everything went a lot blurrier, but Ignis chased another kiss out of Gladio.

“Don’t let dinner spoil,” Gladio smiled, dipping back down to leave a final kiss on Ignis’ flushed lips. He caught the lower lip briefly between his alpha teeth and Ignis gasped.

He drew himself up, backing off before he got carried away. “You’re right,” he smiled. “Thank you.”

“Need a hand?” Gladio asked, sliding his palm down Ignis’ back as the omega turned.

“You’re quite handsy enough already, I think,” he smirked, and Gladio rumbled another laugh.

“I’ll behave, I promise,” he said.

“No, that’s alright,” Ignis replied, finishing the layer of thinly-sliced courgette off and stepping back.

Gladio had trailed him into the kitchen like a little puppy, and was eyeing the lamb dish hungrily. “Is… is that…?” he asked, his whole face a question mark.

Ignis looked up at him, surprised. “Tenebraean lamb pie? Yes.”

Gladio looked searchingly at Ignis’ face but offered no comment beyond a soft, “Huh,” and another smile.

To present such a deeply-traditional, homely meal was a deliberately ‘omega’ gesture. Omegas in Tenebrae were utterly subservient. They were providers for their alphas.

“Ignis,” Gladio said after a while.

“Mmm?” he said, looking up as he slid the pie into the oven, discovering that Gladio was standing right behind him.

Gladio sighed and tugged him close, pulling on the strings of his apron to free him from it and lifting it tenderly over his head. “Thank you. I love you.” As Ignis let out a surprised little laugh, Gladio added quickly, “I don’t need you to say it back. I just need you to know I love you.”

Ignis nuzzled fondly at the scent gland in Gladio’s neck, and then placed a loving, open-mouthed kiss there. “We’ve got an hour until that’s ready, and I’d planned to have a bath tonight.”

Gladio rolled his head back, laughing quietly. “Can I bring a book and join you?”

“You’ll hardy fit with me in my bathtub, Gladio.”

He shook his head. “I already had a shower. I’ll sit on the floor next to you and try not to cause too much trouble…”

Ignis smiled. “Alright. I’ll start the water running.” He eyed an open bottle of red wine on the counter. “Help yourself to a drink if you’d like one. I’m going to get undressed.”

“Mmm, Ig,” Gladio complained. A light flashed in his eyes, joking, light-hearted, and kind. “Naked Ignis or a glass of wine…?”

“If you hurry,” Ignis smirked as he began to move away, “You can enjoy both.”

Gladio didn’t need telling twice.

Ignis stepped into the bath a little while later, while the water-level rose around him, lavender scented bubbles tingling and popping against his toes. He let out a deep groan as heat permeated his shoulders and back, and tilted his head back against the little bath cushion he’d bought himself. It stuck onto the enamel with two little rubber suckers, and the cushion was white and fluffy and, quite frankly, _heavenly_ against the back of his neck.

Gladio joined him a moment later, having, Ignis suspected, quite deliberately allowed him to undress and step into the bath in private. If the waves of alpha scent that rolled off him the moment he entered the bathroom were anything to go on, Ignis could tell how worked up Gladio was already.

He wasn’t turned on – well, alright, he was, but it was more than that. There was a contentedness to Gladio’s scent that intrigued Ignis as much as it awoke other needs in him. All these nuances were all so new to him. He still questioned whether it was the presence of a happy alpha that made him feel slightly dizzy or whether it was the fact that he was finally able to be himself, be an _omega_ , around Gladio.

“Iggy,” Gladio rumbled from where he’d sunk down onto the bathroom floor with one of the soft cushions from the sofa under his ass.

“Mmm?”

“Do me a favour?”

“Anything I am able to do,” he said, his heartrate rising just a little.

“Stop thinking and just enjoy your bath.”

Ignis felt his shoulders slump as he let out a nervous laugh. “If I am this easy for everyone to read, it’s a wonder that there’s anyone at all who doesn’t know my secret,” he scoffed, reaching forward to turn the taps off.

“I know you better than most people do. Not better than Noct, maybe, but still…” Gladio shrugged, the massive balloon-glass of red wine in his hand slopping without spilling.

Ignis took a deep breath, the steam from the bath hitting his nostrils with a wave of lavender, behind which was that rich undercurrent of alpha.

“Good start,” Gladio smiled. “I’m gonna read at least half of this chapter,” he waved the book in his huge hand as evidence, “And you’re gonna lie back and relax. Then, if you feel like it, I’ll give those shoulders a little rub, ok?”

Ignis allowed his lips to quirk at the corners. “Yes,” he said, eyes closed. “Yes that sounds more than ‘ok’, Gladio.”

True to his word, Gladio left Ignis to soak in peace. There was nothing but the dim glow of the small, shaded bulb on the wall, just enough for Gladio to read by, the steam billowing in the air, and the regular whisper of turning pages. Occasionally Gladio would laugh or scoff at something in his novel, but mostly, he was quiet.

Ignis allowed himself an occasional glance, but before long, he felt his eyelids beginning to droop and his breathing deepen out.

A touch so light he wasn’t sure he’d felt it graced the inside of his thigh. He twitched. It happened again, only this time the touch was more assertive.

“Oi,” Gladio said, voice firm but fond. “Don’t fall asleep in the tub.”

“Apologies,” he mumbled, opening his eyes with no small difficulty. The lids felt heavy as stone, and all he wanted was to drift off. This was why he didn’t allow himself warm baths too often. It made his omega rise to the surface. It made him soft, careless. The touch on his thigh was still there. It was so nice.

Without realising it, Ignis began to purr.

At the sound of it, the first time Gladio had ever heard it, the big alpha went rigid, barely daring to breathe in case he blotted out even a moment of the sound. Unbeknownst to Ignis, it reverberated inside his mind the way only an omega’s purr could.

“Oh gods, Ignis,” Gladio breathed a moment later. “Oh gods, you… that…” his fingers tightened ever so slightly on the strong but currently relaxed muscle of Ignis’ thigh. “That has to be the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

“Hmm?” Ignis asked, head rolling over to face Gladio, cheeks flushed, green irises peering at him from under long eyelashes. “What…? Oh…” he exhaled, already pink cheeks deepening. The sound faltered in his throat and he looked away.

“Don’t be shy about it,” Gladio smiled, setting his wineglass down on the tiles out of range of his feet as he shuffled around. “Here, lemme give you a massage.”

“You don’t have to,” Ignis began, but his protests died in his throat as Gladio’s fingers began to kneed first gently and then with more purpose at his iron-tight muscles.

Sensations washed through Ignis’ brain and his omega nature _really_ began to show itself. _This_ was why he had never let anyone touch him before now. This was so gods-damned good. Noises fell out of him in waves like a surging tide. And, for the first time in his life, he didn’t fight it.

“Oh Gladio,” he mumbled as Gladio’s thumbs worked insistently at the knots.

“That’s it,” Gladio murmured a while later as his shoulders dropped another inch. “There we go.”

Ignis began to slide down the bath a little way as his whole body went limp. Well, there was one part of him that was definitely not limp.

Amid the fading bubbles, his cock had begun to grow hard as he lost himself to the sensations. His scent deepened and his purring filled the room along with it. Gladio moved his hands to hold Ignis by the curve of his shoulders where they met his biceps, and lowered his lips to Ignis’ scent glands. Nosing softly there a moment, he began to kiss him slowly.

Then, as Ignis gave a little whine, he drew back and worked his thumbs and fingers up to Ignis’ neck once more.

“…Gods,” Ignis panted, his right hand moving to his hip, his fingers barely an inch from his erection.

 

***

 

Gladio swallowed hard. He hadn’t meant to get Ignis worked up, but he supposed that four years of denying himself the touch of others would have made Ignis like this. Or perhaps he was just incredibly sensitive. He liked the thought of that.

Behind the lavender of the bath, Ignis’ own scent rushed up to meet Gladio’s nose. It was sweeter, somehow even softer, than it had been the previous night, but he still couldn’t determine the specific dynamic behind it: sugared almonds and freshly-baked pastries with a hint of something that promised more, begged for more. That, Gladio supposed, was the omega in him, but still, it was subtle.

And by all the Astrals, if the scent of Ignis’ arousal hadn’t been enough to make his own pants shrink a size or two, that gods-damned purring would have been. Betas on the whole didn’t tend to purr, so it was no surprise that Ignis had never allowed himself the luxury of making the sound before then, even when it was just the four of them, but now that Ignis was no longer attempting to hide himself away, sealed in the steel vault of his own self-discipline and fear, Gladio took the gift for what it was: a mark of absolute and complete trust.

Gladio was so happy he could have purred himself, although alphas purred even less frequently than betas. Purring was a distinctly omega thing, alphas generally saving it for private moments with their bonded mates. The thought of being bonded to Ignis made him growl softly though, possessively, and he felt his own cock throb.

Ignis reacted to the sound with a little whine, tilting his head up to try and look at Gladio, who was still kneeling behind him, scratching his fingertips across Ignis’ scalp with such intensity that Ignis was short of breath, his hips occasionally jerking upwards, his hand a heartbeat away from wrapping itself around his length and wringing an orgasm out of himself.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Gladio breathed against the shell of his ear. “You’re always beautiful.”

Ignis shuddered and whined, head lolling.

“You’re beautiful when you’re being strong and resilient at the Citadel. You’re beautiful when you’re fighting and training with me. You’re beautiful when you beat me when we spar. You’re beautiful when you’re thinking.  You’re beautiful… Ignis… you’re so beautiful.”

“Stop it,” Ignis laughed, “Gods, Gladio, will it always be like this? Will you always be able to undo me with just a touch?”

Gladio’s laugh was low and kind. Ignis even had a light dusting of golden freckles on the back of his neck. Gladio kissed them. Then he scraped his blunt nails up from the nape of Ignis’ neck, over the curve of his skull, and raked them back from his forehead to the nape once more.

Ignis cried out in pleasure, and Gladio stopped. He shuffled a little so that he could reach Ignis’ cock more easily, and leaned over Ignis’ body to wrap his fingers around it. “Lemme take care of you, ok?” he asked as Ignis’ body lurched at the sensation, cooling water sloshing in the tub.

Beginning slowly, he worked Ignis’ cock. It was perfectly in proportion, just like the rest of him; neither overly large, nor small, but utterly beautiful. The waterline caressed his balls as Ignis raised his hips up slightly, twitching and begging Gladio to go a little faster. His scent was so sweet now that it filled Gladio’s brain. He ached to sink his teeth into Ignis’ gland, to taste him, to bond him. But he knew Ignis wasn’t ready even to contemplate that just yet.

So Gladio obliged Ignis, and in mere seconds, both of Ignis’ hands had gripped the edge of the bath, and he came with a cry that echoed off the tiles, head bent forwards, spilling over Gladio’s hand and up his clenching torso. Gladio slowly worked him through it, smiling as Ignis’ whole body seized with pleasure.

Then he went slack and fell back against the bath cushion, breathing heavily, sweat beading on his temple.

Gladio released him and stood to fetch a little wash cloth from the radiator. He wetted it in the sink before returning and wiping the come off Ignis’ skin before it got mixed into the bathwater.

“Gladio,” Ignis panted. “You… I…” His eyes drifted down to Gladio’s crotch, and then back up to his face. “Do you want…?”

“Later, Iggy,” he grinned, washing the cloth out in the sink. “You’re an omega. You’re…. er… _designed_ to come a lot more than alphas are, ok? Trust me. I’ll be ok for now.”

“Alright,” he hissed, still a little cross eyed. “Let me… um… I’ll just… finish up in here and then… dinner should be ready…”

“I’ll go check on it, ok?” Gladio smiled.

It was such a treat to see Ignis all unravelled like this, one he thought he’d never tire of seeing. Raking his fingers through Ignis’ wet hair one more time, eliciting one final moan from him, he picked up his wine glass and padded out into the kitchen.

The lamb smelled amazing, and it went a long way to clearing his head of the scent of Ignis’ arousal. He saw that the timer had a minute left, and as Ignis stood from the bath, the rush of water carrying through the small apartment, Gladio called out and asked if he wanted him to start the veg off on the hob.

“Thank you,” Ignis answered, and appeared a minute or two later, wearing soft grey sweatpants and that round-neck, Crownsguard jumper again.

Gladio’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but he merely smiled and stepped aside as Ignis started to dish out the lamb onto the plates.

They ate at the small table in the living room in an easy, calm silence, Gladio appreciating the combination of simple, yet expertly-blended, flavours, and occasionally looking up at Ignis and smiling.

Taking a final sip of his red wine as he finished the meal, he sighed and sat back in his chair. “It’s gonna be alright, Iggy,” he said. “I promise.”

“How did you know it’s all still churning around my head?” Ignis asked, lips and eyebrow rising on the same side into a wry expression.

Gladio laughed. “Because you’re my best friend. I may have been completely fucking blind about your dynamic, but the rest of it at least, I like to think I have a handle on. And I know it’s gonna take more than a bath and a quick hand-job to get you to switch off completely.”

“I _wanted_ you to be ‘completely fucking blind’ about my dynamic, you know” he said with a little edge to his voice, that eyebrow still cocked as he finished off his own wine and reached to refresh their glasses.

“I love it when you swear, Ignis,” he smirked. “I’m not sure if it’s the accent or the fact that you’re always so… _proper_ , but… well…” he trailed off and raised his glass to Ignis. “To new beginnings?”

Ignis’ expression softened and he returned Gladio’s smile with a gentle one of his own, closing his eyes and nodding slightly. “Yes. I will try to remember that I don’t need to hide from you and Noct and Prompto any longer.”

“Good. Now,” Gladio said, leaning his forearms on the table. “What’s really still bothering you?”

Ignis chuckled, but the sound died, his momentary amusement wiped off by a wave of fear that spiked his sweet scent to bitterness.

Gladio rumbled something wordless and reassuring, and pushed his own scent as subtly as he could manage. What he really wanted to do was push himself to his feet and scent Ignis until he couldn’t think any more.

Ignis’ pupils widened slightly behind the lenses of his glasses, and he exhaled. “Thank you for that,” he said. “Gods, I’ve spent so many years resisting the effects of alpha influence. Just allowing myself to accept even that is so… foreign… to me.”

“Hey,” Gladio said, as a note of unease thrummed through his chest. “If you don’t want me to do it, I won’t… I’m sorry. I… it just…”

Ignis was laughing again before he really realised it. “I honestly don’t mind, and, as with the rest of all this, _that’s_ what scares me. But I would rather you only did it in private, when we’re alone.”

Gladio nodded. “Whatever you need.” He waited a moment, and then raised his own eyebrows a little, hoping to prompt the rest of Ignis’ worries out of him with a look. It must have worked, because Ignis sighed, swirling the wine around the wineglass without looking up at him.

“I’m worried about not being able to separate being an omega in private – gods, even saying it aloud makes me sick to my stomach, even with you…” he swallowed a huge gulp of his wine and began again. “I’m worried about whether I will be able to maintain my beta appearance in public if I allow myself to behave more as an omega in private, I suppose.”

“I understand.”

Ignis’ eyes narrowed.

“I do,” Gladio protested. “It’s not the same, I know, but I always have to be careful about my alpha side. You know as well as I do what _Amicitia_ alphas are like – we’re angry all the fucking time unless we keep a lid on it, my sex drive is through the roof, my urge to protect the people I love borders on suffocating according to Iris… I always have to be careful. It’s fine when I’m at home and dad and I can shout at each other, or Iris and I can goof around, but outside of that… it’s different. It’s difficult.”

“Your ‘sex drive is through the roof’?” Ignis smirked.

“ _That’s_ what you took away from that?”

“Omega, remember?” Ignis smiled wickedly.

There was such playfulness, such light-heartedness at his situation, that Gladio felt a surge of affection for him. Two weeks ago, he hadn’t even been in a place where he was happy enough even to admit what he was to Gladio, let alone joke about it, and now… Gladio’s lips peeled back to reveal his alpha teeth in a smile that was part pride and part adoration for Ignis.

Unable just to sit there and stare at him, he was on his feet before he’d really realised it, and had paced around to behind Ignis’ chair. He slung his arms over Ignis’ shoulders, draping his body over his left shoulder, and nuzzling up against his cheek. “We’re gonna do this, Iggy,” he murmured softly, kissing his smooth cheek. “We’re gonna do this together.”

Ignis sighed, smiled, and leaned his head back into Gladio.

They cleared away the dinner things, Gladio washing up while Ignis was gently banished to the sofa. “All part of your alpha urges to take care of me, correct?” Ignis mocked playfully.

“Something like that,” Gladio muttered, stacking the dishes in the drying rack. “Now go and take the weight off your feet, will you?”

“Yes, _alpha_ ,” Ignis purred.

The plate slipped from Gladio’s fingers, falling into the washing-up bowl with a splash that sent soapy water all up his front and over his face. “Holy shit, Ignis, warn a guy first!”

“Absolutely not,” Ignis laughed as he retreated to the living room.

When Gladio emerged, he saw Ignis had his phone out and was typing a message. He plonked himself down on the sofa beside him and grunted, “That better not be work, Iggy.”

“It’s Noct.”

“Everything ok?”

_Noct: If you don't answer in 5 min I assume you and the big guy are good. I talked to Cor and moved your morning training to later in the afternoon. You can thank me with baked goods later ;D_

Ignis laughed softly, his shoulders shaking, eyes crinkling.

Gladio’s brows furrowed in a curious question. “Princess?” he asked. 

“Indeed. He informed me that I have the morning off tomorrow,” he scrolled up to show Gladio the previous message, “And he expects you to take full advantage of that fact...”

“Does he?” Gladio grinned, leaning close and nipping Ignis’ sensitive neck with an alpha tooth. “Who am I to refuse a royal command?”

Ignis shoved him off playfully. “Since when have you _ever_ done anything Noctis told you to?”

“You’d be surprised,” he said, mind going back to the end of his conversation with Noct and Prompto earlier that day. “He can be pretty… _persuasive_ , when it comes to you anyway.”

Ignis’ brows twitched, but Gladio shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here, and we’re gonna make this work, together.”

Ignis graced him with a truly happy smile and pressed his shoulder against Gladio’s. They stayed like that a while, just soaking in each other’s presence: no filters, no walls, no lies.

Until finally, Ignis broke the silence. “Thank you, Gladio,” he said as he laid his palm down on Gladio’s thigh in a genuine, chaste display of open affection. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for engaging in this story! I had intended to write more, with the evening at the Riverbend Tavern and the Glaives and Nyx and everything, and a little reveal too, but this chapter ran away with me, so that'll have to wait til next time. You'll meet the Kingsglaives, find out a bit more about them, their largely Galahdian backgrounds, and a little about their dynamics (both as a group, and in specific abo verse terms...) stay tuned! And don't forget you can come and scream at me on Tumblr


	12. Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladio and Ignis spend their morning off together, while Prompto makes a discovery about another omega. Gladio brings up the idea of the two of them going to the Riverbend Tavern with some of the Glaive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my glorious and apparently inexhaustible beta, @tinycactus-tinyllama for all your help with this monster of a chapter. This one really kicked my butt for the longest time. Buckle up, chocobos, it's just shy of 9500 words long. The next one will be a shorter one I think, because this is getting absurd, but I just couldn't break this one up. Anyway, I hope you lot enjoy it, and thank you for your support so far!

Sunlight filtered through his thin curtains, and as he surfaced from the depths of sleep, he wondered groggily why his alarm hadn’t gone off. Vague memories of the previous night drifted through his consciousness: Gladio sitting beside him while he bathed, his calm alpha presence like a rock to which Ignis could anchor himself; blessedly warm water, the heat bleeding into his aching muscles; the whisper of the pages turning; the soft huff of laughter; the way Gladio swept those stubborn sections of hair back when they slipped forward into his golden eyes.

Ignis rolled over, intending to stare luxuriantly at Gladio’s profile, perhaps trail tentative fingertips across his chest, but it was with a strange jolt that he felt cold sheets beside him.

He struggled with his panicking inner omega for a moment, reminding himself that Gladio wouldn’t just leave without saying anything. He was probably in the bathroom.

Sitting up with a start, he blinked. His farsighted vision was passable, if blurry, but he still fumbled awkwardly for the glasses which he always kept on his bedside table.

When he sat up and looked at the bedroom door, he could see the bathroom. The door was open and the room empty, and that little lurch of panic surged again. “Stop it,” he hissed pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, though it did nothing to assuage his rising fears. “Stop it, stop it, stop it.” He ground his teeth and closed his eyes, inhaling. One, two… one, two.

He was not going to shout Gladio’s name. He just was not. He was a Scientia, damn it. _Ante omnia decorum_ might have done well enough for their house motto, if ever they’d deigned to invent one.

He slid from the bed, his torso bare for once, his legs swathed in soft, warm, cotton pyjamas, and made his way into the living room of his apartment. His spine all but turned to water when he saw Gladio moving about in his kitchen.

The big alpha was also bare-chested, the lines of his half-finished tattoo looking shadowy and ghostly in the morning light that filtered in through the open window. The potted herbs on the sill quivered and shivered in the little breeze, looking almost like they were giggling shyly at Gladio’s shameless nakedness. Black trackpants hung invitingly low on his hips and Ignis sank his teeth into his lower lip as he watched the dimples at the base of his spine move as the shield shifted about in his kitchen.

Gladio had his long hair sort of tied up in a bun, and Ignis’ heartbeat clanged in his ears at the sight of him looking so soft and almost… _domestic._ Gladio was everything an alpha should be: immensely strong; powerful; compassionate; caring; fierce; protective. Ignis shuddered softly and felt a little slick bloom between his cheeks at the thought of just how perfect an alpha Gladio was. And then at the thought that Gladio wanted him. His words from late last night, whispered in his ear, lips brushing his skin in a hardly-there gesture,  floated back to him. “I’ve wanted you for years,” he’d sighed, one palm locked on Ignis’ hips.

Gladio was a heartbeat away from being _Ignis’_ alpha, of that the omega was certain. All that separated them was a resoundingly silent ‘not yet’ from Ignis.

The alpha inhaled suddenly, catching Ignis’ scent in the room, and turned gracefully to look at him. “I woke you,” he said, chagrined, voice scraping and deep in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Ignis shook his head and padded barefoot over to join him.

Gladio set the coffee pot down and opened his arms. Ignis stepped into his embrace and buried his nose against Gladio’s chest, looping his arms around the solid column of Gladio’s torso.

“You ok?” Gladio asked, raking his fingers gently through Ignis’ greying, un-styled hair. The tender, blunt scraping sent a thrill through Ignis’ whole body, but all he allowed himself was a tremulous sigh. Gladio pushed out his scent softly, reassuring him, wrapping him in a cocoon of safety and security, before nuzzling slightly at the side of his head, just above his ear.

“Mmm. Fine. I just… I woke and you weren’t there. I thought… but it doesn’t matter. You stayed.”

A fiercer whip of Gladio’s alpha scent billowed around them, and Gladio held him tight. “I… I’m here for you, Ig,” he croaked. “If I had my way, I’d never leave.”

Ignis chuckled. “Well, that could get difficult, what with you being Noct’s shield and all…”

Gladio cuffed him playfully on the back of the head, and said, “You know what I meant, Iggy.” When Ignis didn’t respond immediately, Gladio drew back a little and placed his index finger and thumb on Ignis’ chin, drawing his face upwards to reveal glassy green eyes. “You _do_ believe me, don’t you?”

Ignis nodded mutely, a watery smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice wavering and cracking.

Gladio held him close again, that reassuring alpha scent steadily filling Ignis’ brain until even his little, insecure, inner omega began to relax. “There,” Gladio murmured after a little while. “There, that’s better.”

“What is?”

Gladio’s low, rumbling laugh made Ignis smile despite his confusion. “You can’t smell yourself right now, but you’re beautiful.”

“Oh,” Ignis said. “I should take my blockers.”

“Can they wait?” Gladio asked. “I mean, take your suppressants, but can the blockers wait?” He must have felt Ignis’ heartrate rocket, as he added, “But only if you want to. Don’t ever feel like you have to do anything just because I asked for it, ok?”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say to me, Gladiolus Amicitia. And I’ll hold you to that,” Ignis said, shifting back a step and placing his palm on Gladio’s chest, right over his heart, not far from where the eagle’s sharp beak sat open in a silent shriek. “But no. I should take them.”

Gladio’s only response was to laugh. “Coffee should be brewed by now. I was gonna surprise you in bed with it, but as usual, you’ve out-foxed me.”

“There’s a blanket on the sofa,” Ignis said in response. “I can still curl up with a coffee there. Thank you.”

Gladio banished him with a fond little jerk of his chin in the direction of the couch, and he turned away to pour the coffee from the glass cafetiere.

Ignis strode to the bathroom and swallowed his suppressants. He stared at his blockers and decided that no, today was _not_ the day he would go to the citadel reeking of omega. Perhaps one day. He smiled that he was even entertaining the idea of it now. It was unrealistic to think that anyone on the Lucian high council, or even the powerful Insomnian elite would accept an omega in his position, he knew, but still, he could dream.

High sighed and swallowed it down. The blocker would get to work quickly enough once taken, and he had the whole morning ahead of him. _They_ had the whole morning ahead of them. He smiled at that.

Ignis shivered a little in the chilly atmosphere of his flat, choosing not to put on a shirt as Gladio seemed to like his body as it was, and burrowed down into the blanket which had been folded on one arm of the sofa. He felt the omega’s instinct to nest, to create a soft, warm space to curl up in, and closed his eyes. Knowing that he really _didn’t_ have to battle his instincts, and then actually _not_ battling them, were two entirely different concepts which he had yet to reconcile.

He watched Gladio’s approach with a fire kindling in his body. Deciding to let it burn, he allowed himself to watch.

The man was truly beautiful. And when it came to Ignis, were only four things about Gladio that were always soft: his eyes; his hair; his hands; and his heart. The rest of him was honed, ready, tense as a loaded spring, sculpted, whittled down to the rawest, sharpest essence of muscle and control. His tanned abs were smooth and hard as polished bronze, and there was a steady, effortless control to each movement that made Ignis’ very core thrum. Sometimes he had to close his eyes, or he knew he’d be in danger of never being able to look away again.

Gladio was all barely-contained power and carefully-calculated grace as he moved, and, Ignis realised, it was a _joy_ to be able to watch him so openly. When Gladio leaned down to place the mug of steaming coffee on a mat on the table, his muscles bunched and the bird’s wings flexed intoxicatingly. If Ignis felt an omega whine rising in his throat, he didn’t fight quite so hard to hide it this time.

Gladio only smiled, and tugged at the hem of the blanket, wordlessly requesting that Ignis curl up against him while his coffee cooled enough for him to drink. Ignis found himself only too happy to oblige, and he leaned against Gladio’s side with a contented sigh, running the palm of his hand across the smooth, warm skin with his eyes closed, feeling every ridge and curve of his body. “You truly are a work of art, Gladiolus,” he murmured.

Those hard muscles leapt joyfully as he laughed the rich, booming baritone that Ignis adored, and Gladio began to stroke Ignis’ hair again, his short nails scraping just right against his scalp, the pressure just enough to make Ignis shudder and moan with joy, without tipping him over the edge into a different kind of pleasure. For now anyway.

How long they lay there, curled and lost in each other’s presence, Ignis sipping his coffee, Gladio dozing contentedly with his head resting against Ignis’, the omega honestly could not have said, but eventually, Gladio’s touch began to awaken something else in him as he trailed his fingers down Ignis’ spine beneath the soft weave of the blanket.

“You know,” Gladio rumbled some time later, “You’re not so bad yourself…”

Ignis gave a little embarrassed laugh and moved his hand up Gladio’s thigh. The thick cotton of the alpha’s trackpants creased as he dug his fingertips into the solid muscle, and Gladio let out a gentle growl of pleasure that was almost a purr, tipping his head back into the cushions behind him. Ignis slid his palm higher, to the crease between hip and thigh, and felt Gladio’s cock twitch with interest, and his scent thickened so Ignis could taste it on his tongue.

“Mmph, Ignis,” he groaned, golden eyes rolling closed. “Gods…” His breath left his lungs in a rapid, shallow pant, and then he turned those burning eyes down to fix on Ignis’ face. “You sure you want this now?”

Ignis nodded, half-empty coffee mug forgotten on the table, and climbed into Gladio’s lap in a fluid movement, the blanket pooling around his hips.

Gladio didn’t ask again this time.

He brought his hands to the side of Ignis’ face, tangling his fingers in Ignis’ hair, his scent spiking again as he crushed a kiss into his lips. How he could be so forceful and so gentle at the same time, Ignis wasn’t sure, but suddenly he felt a great deal of slick pooling between his cheeks and he moaned behind the kiss. When the moan turned into a keen, the harmonic of _omega_ ringing through clearly despite being muffled behind the gesture, Gladio broke off with a gasp.

“I know I will never get used to hearing that from you,” he panted, snatching a nibble at the side of Ignis’ exposed neck before pulling back and working his palms down Ignis’ shoulders and the column of his spine to his hips.

Taking those sharp hipbones in his big hands, he ground his groin up into Ignis’ and smiled, alpha teeth flashing, as Ignis let out another, longer, louder keen, his head tipping back to reveal his pale throat, lips parted, eyes closed.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful. You’re so _beautiful_ ,” Gladio chanted.

He kissed every inch of Ignis’ neck and collarbones, leaving Ignis shaking and breathless, and as he came back to the scent gland on Ignis’ left side, he placed his lips carefully over it, his alpha teeth raking over the skin, and sucked an imitation of a mating mark.

The broken keen that left Ignis’ lips was accompanied by a swirling, heady rush of sugared almonds that made Gladio’s brain short out. He growled possessively, over and over as he turned the gesture into a kiss, lips sealing it to Ignis’ pale skin. The noise of Gladio’s growl was rich and sonorous in the otherwise still and silent apartment. The alpha’s back curved suddenly into a strong ‘S’-shape to bring him closer to Ignis, his fingers almost bruisingly hard at Ignis’ hips.

Ignis gasped. “I love that.”

“When I growl?” he asked. “Or when you _make_ me growl?”

“ _I_ made you…?” Ignis whispered, tone teetering on disbelief.

Just, it seemed, for the sheer joy of the result, Gladio growled again, teeth bared in a lopsided smile, but it all dissolved into a fond laugh as Ignis’ eyes rolled shut and he shuddered so hard he almost toppled from Gladio’s lap. “Gods, Iggy,” he said finally.

He brought his nose back to Ignis’ neck and bit him gently on the triangle of muscle at the junction between neck and shoulder, well away from his gland. Ignis felt his muscles beginning to melt again as his omega surged to take control. Relinquishing himself entirely to the control of another was still an utterly alien concept of him. There was a slight moment of indecision, a tugging in his chest, a small battle as his training against alpha influence warred against the building pleasure in him. His training had never taught him how to deal with this though. He’d never thought it would be necessary.

“I _want_ you. _I want you all the damned time_.” Gladio’s voice was laced with heavy, _alpha_ intonation, his scent thick and powerful, and so beautiful. And it was all for _him_.

Ignis suddenly found himself overwhelmed in the best way possible by the fact that _he_ had done this Gladio. Gladio was only this worked up because of the way he felt about _him_. “I’m yours,” Ignis crooned immediately, head still lolling under the influence of Gladio’s alpha intonations.

“Hold on to me,” Gladio murmured, shifting Ignis’ arms up around his neck and sliding his fingers down to dig into the underside of Ignis’ lean thighs. Ignis wrapped his long legs around Gladio’s hips and gripped, making Gladio grunt with pleasure at the pressure. He hitched him a little higher so that Ignis’ steel-strong thighs closed like a vice around his waist instead, and Ignis nuzzled against his neck, seeking reassurance as his heartbeat skyrocketed.

The world lurched as Gladio stood carefully.

Ignis may have been an omega, but he was not small, and though he was lean, he was muscular. It was unnerving, to say the least, to be carried by someone, but Gladio bore him easily, stealing frequent kisses, stalking towards Ignis’ bedroom, where the duvet was still rumpled and the sheets creased.

He deposited him carefully on the bed this time, laying him down on his back and sinking onto the bed with one knee beside Ignis’ hips. He leaned over and nuzzled him gently at his unbitten, if a little bruised, scent gland again, reassuring him after the adrenaline spike that had surged at being carried unexpectedly. He kissed there until Ignis was shuddering and whining incoherently, and the scent of his slick filled the small bedroom.

“Please,” Ignis gasped, his fingers working vaguely and uselessly at the band of his pyjamas. “Please.”

“Please what?” Gladio asked, pulling back.

The loss of the heavy heat of his body pressed against Ignis made the omega cry out in distress, hands reaching blindly to grab at his shoulders, to pull him closer, to do _anything_ to make him come back.

“ _Please_ ,” he keened, words starting to slur together. “You know ‘what’. _Make me come. I need to come. I need you again. Please_.”

“You promise me that _you, Ignis Scientia_ want this, not your touch-starved omega, ok?”

“Yes,” he gasped, spine arching, lungs utterly breathless. “For gods’ sake, _please_. I promise.”

Gladio’s laugh was kind and warm, and he helped free Ignis of his trackpants and slick-soaked boxer-briefs, since the omega was now incapable of doing even that himself.

 

***

Prompto tugged his earbuds from his ears and wrapped the cord around his mp3 player, stuffing it into his locker. The changing rooms were stuffy, and there was a shower going, but other than that, this part of the training centre was still quiet. Everyone else was still doing drills, just getting going. He was the only who had already finished his workout.

He grabbed his shower gel and shucked his clothes off as quickly as possible in case someone came in, wrenched his towel free from his bag, and scuttled into the shower, careful not to slip on the icy tiles.

No sooner had he turned the water on and started to wash the sweat from his skin than a throaty cry of pleasure filled the air and the heady rush of omega slick almost made him stagger.

“What?” he breathed, eyes widening, hand clamping down over his mouth.

Prompto all but _lived_ for early mornings, but even he had regretted clambering from Noct’s warm bed, having awoken with his nose pressed to the nape of Noct’s neck, to make his way through the chilly pre-dawn light to the training centre. That way, however, he knew he could hit the gym _and_ the firing range before Noct even knew he was gone. It beat lying there for hours, squirming and covered in slick with an aching hard on, though Noct never minded if he got going first. Sometimes it even woke the prince up if he started first.

What he had _not_ expected was to find a couple having sex in the showers at six in the morning.

He ducked his head under the water again, heat searing his sensitive skin hot enough to make him flush pink and moan with pleasure, when more grunts and gasps from the shower a couple of stalls down made him go still. There was an alpha, his own senses told him that much immediately, but it wasn’t until he heard a high, more insistent keen that knew the other was, remarkably, an omega.

“Holy shit,” Prompto whispered, slapping a hand over his mouth again, partly to keep from giggling and partly to mask the scents a little. _They_ weren’t trying to hide themselves at _all_. He was surprised to find an omega being so open about their dynamic, but he knew of at least a couple in the Glaive, so he knew he shouldn’t be all that shocked. The sound of wet skin slapping repeatedly against skin and the bang of a hand on one of the walls of the shower stalls suddenly seemed to fill the air.

“Fuck!” a hoarse cry broke from one of them. “Oh fuck, _there_ , like that, oh yes, fuck me harder, yes… _fuck! Harder!_ ”

That would be the omega then. Prompto bit his lip, eyes wide, his own cock beginning to stir with interest. _No, not now dammit,_ he thought.

He decided that he was not about to jerk off in the showers while eavesdropping on a poor unsuspecting couple, no matter how careless they seemed to be about their activities, but as he washed himself after his workout, he couldn’t help but slip a finger between his cheeks. Yes, he was more than slick already. Noct had better be awake when he got back.

Unbidden, the memory of Noctis waking up with a heat-hazed Prompto riding him drifted to the front of Prompto’s mind, and he bit back a moan, sliding two fingers as deep as he could get them, back arching. The omega two stalls down was making more than enough noise to mask him, but he knew his scent would give him away soon. He had to stop. He was so sweet that not even blockers really masked what he was.

His sky blue eyes drifted down to glance at the rarely-exposed barcode on his wrist and sighed. The sight of it took a little off the edge of his lust. He’d been _designed_ to be this sweet after all. His lip curled softly, the heat in his groin dissipating slowly. One day he’d tell Noct where he really came from, and just why he was so gods-damned sweet, but until then, the cuffs stayed on, and the truth remained a secret. The _only_ secret he kept from Noct.

The alpha came with a bellow a few seconds later, wrenching Prompto back to the moment, and the other omega let out a crescendo of gasps and cries, following the alpha and coming unashamedly with a loud, prolonged yell. His shout echoed off the tiles and made Prompto’s groin ache with interest again, but he took a few deep breaths. _Wait for Noct_ , he thought. _Not here. You’re too sweet. They’ll smell you. Just wait._

“ _Fuck_ , _Lib_ ,” the omega panted after a few moments, unable to keep the omega intonation from his voice so soon after coming. “ _It’s been too long. We should do this more often_.”

Knowing now that the alpha was Libertus Ostium of the Kingsglaive, Prompto _really_ didn’t want to get out and face them. He barely knew Libertus, but he’d had some of his basic self-defence sessions with him and Crowe, and he did _not_ need to see his former alpha teacher in a post-coital haze.

He also thought he recognised the other voice, and frowned. It couldn’t be. No way. And yet…

Distracted by his musings, most of the fire left his body and he forced himself to concentrate on his shower, not on fucking himself with his fingers, tempting though it was. Hearing the other omega moan again though, his resolve crumbled a little, and pushed his fingers back just inside himself. Gods, it felt good, but Noct’s cock would feel better. So much better. “No,” he snapped in a harsh whisper, water filling his mouth. “Control. Just like Iggy. Control.”

Taking a number of deep, if shaky, breaths, he let the splashing of the couple finishing their shower occupy his brain. The sound of two pairs of feet on wet tiles announced their departure towards the lockers. Prompto washed his slick-coated cheeks off yet again, ducked under the jet one last time and scraped his fingers through his hair before turning the faucets off and drying himself off in the stall.

He waited til he heard the door slam. Hoping it was safe, he stepped out, towel around his waist.

It wasn’t.

Sitting on the central bench, bending forward to lace up his knee-high Glaive boots, was Nyx Ulric.

Prompto’s brain went blank. “No way,” he breathed.

Nyx looked up, a definite light in his blue-grey eyes. “Hey sunshine,” he grinned lopsidedly, beads in his wet braids clinking cheekily. “You’re up with the dawn…”

When Prompto just blinked stupidly at him, Nyx rumbled a laugh and straightened.

“Sorry about that,” he said, not sounding in the least bit contrite. “Didn’t know you were here.” After a pause, he added, “Not that I would have stopped if I _had_ known.”

“Oh my gods,” Prompto hissed, biting his lip to keep from smiling too hard. “You’re… You’re…”

“An omega?” Nyx snorted. “That what you’re trying to say? Yeah. Like you, with those gorgeous, big baby blues, and all those freckles.”

“Holy shit.”

Nyx rocked back, laughing so hard the beads in his braid jangled again. “Look, sunshine, I don’t hide it, but at the same time, I don’t make a point of telling people.”

“Oh, I won’t tell,” Prompto finally blurted, “I’m just…”

“Surprised?” Nyx asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Most people assume I’m a beta, which is fine, given the way they treat omegas in Lucis.”

“It’s not _that_ bad here…” Prompto said, fingers fumbling with his locker as he struggled to process the new information.

“True, but it’s more relaxed outside the city, you know?”

“Yeah,” Prompto sighed. “They’re still kinda old fashioned here…”

Nyx snorted indelicately and stood up, cracking the tension from his neck. “Sunshine, that’s putting it fucking mildly.” He sighed, stared at Prompto with his icy blue eyes, and then smiled warmly. A sound radiated from him, and Prompto realised he was purring softly. It was brief, but unmistakably _omega_. Prompto felt oddly comforted by the clearly-intended camaraderie of it. “I gotta go. I’ve got gate duty again for mouthing off to Drautos,” and he rolled his eyes. “See you, sunshine. Take care, yeah?”

Prompto stood there a moment longer and watched the Glaive depart, the door swinging shut behind him. It took him a while to realise his mouth was hanging open like he was catching flies.

“Holy shit,” he giggled to himself.

First Ignis, now Nyx. He sank his teeth into his lower lip. Finding not one but _two_ strong omegas made his heart swell with joy. If only those stuck-up, high and mighty alphas in the upper echelons of Lucis’ society knew. He couldn’t stop laughing to himself at the revelation as he dressed and then scampered back to the palace itself.

He entered the palace by a door on a lower level, and threaded his way through endless passages to the kitchens. At that hour, they were already filling with staff while the palace above still slumbered on, and Prompto still chuckled to himself as he slunk in through the doors, heading for the pantry.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” a rich, resonant voice barked.

Prompto froze with one hand on the pantry door. He turned slowly, a guilty grin on his pretty face, and saw the head chef standing there beside the range with hands on her hips, a clean wooden spoon held at her hip like an unsheathed weapon. She was a formidable character: tall, strong, _alpha_ , imposing, and plump as a turkey a week before winter solstice.

Prompto felt his pupils dilating in a typically _omega_ reaction, trying to make himself as adorable and appealing as possible. “I…” he smiled, “I’m getting something for the prince…” he said. If his body pushed its scent out, he didn’t try to stop it.

“You’ll want the cherry frangipane tarts then,” she laughed, pointing her wooden spoon like a fencing rapier at the corner of the cool larder. 

The air left Prompto’s chest in a rush and he grinned. “Thanks!” he yipped, grabbing the foil container of four tarts just visible on a distant shelf.

As he skedaddled from the room, she thwacked him sharply on the backside with the flat of the clean spoon and he yelped and laughed in the same breath. “Next time, you ask first, Prompto!” she cackled as he fled the scene, pastries in hand.

“Yes ma’am!” he cried as he high-tailed it from the kitchens, one hand rubbing his cheek.

Slipping into Noct’s bedroom, breathing hard after flying up the _insane_ number of staircases to the Prince’s apartments, he set the pastries down on the bedside table and kicked off his boots. His legs were tired after his workout, that aching stiffness all omegas got after over-exerted themselves physically. He enjoyed it though. With his omega metabolism, he had a propensity for getting soft, and he and Noct both liked him lean and fit and wiry. That didn’t mean parts of him weren’t perpetually soft, and infinitely sensitive, like his milky-white inner thighs. Just the thought of Noct’s mouth on those precious few inches of skin was enough to make him wet and he bit back a whine as he shucked off his jeans. He left his tank top on though, as the air in Noct’s room was still chilly.

Noctis hadn’t moved an inch since Prompto had left him at five that morning, and he lay face down, drooling softly into the high-thread-count pillowcase, his breathing regular and deep.

Prompto grinned, leaning over him and nuzzling at the one exposed gland in Noct’s neck with his nose, before pressing kisses into his skin and purring raucously. Noct always made him deliriously happy.

When Noct eventually stirred, just enough to emit a deeply dissatisfied groan at being disturbed, Prompto laughed. “Noct, buddy, seriously, wake up!  You’ll never guess what I just found out!”

“Dun care,” Noct mumbled, words thick and woolly. “Sleep.”

“No!” Prompto said, vaulting over him and snuggling down under the covers. He wiggled his body in close to Noct’s side and tugging the duvet up around his ears. “No, listen, I just –”

“Shhh,” Noct hissed, screwing his eyes up and curling into a ball with a grunt. “Too loud.”

“I’m sorry,” Prompto purred, wrapping his body around Noct’s, becoming the big spoon as Noctis rolled into a little bundle of grumpy, sleepy teenager. “Seriously though, you’ll want to be awake for this. You know Nyx Ulric, right?”

After a long pause and a poke in the ribs, Noct grunted, “Glaive?”

“Yeah!” Prompto chirped. “What’s his dynamic?”

Noctis made a noise in the back of his throat that _clearly_ said he couldn’t have cared less what Nyx’ dynamic was.

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto whined in his most resonant, omega voice. “ _Please?_ ”

At the sound of his omega intonation, the prince reacted immediately, rolled over, jostling Prompto a little, and scooped him into a hug as they reversed their positions. “Shh,” he crooned, mouthing lazy kisses over Prompto’s scent gland. “Fine, ok, tell me, then let me sleep some more, ok?”

“Deal. He’s an omega.”

There was a heartbeat of still silence before Noctis breathed, “No way.”

“Yeah. I knew the Glaive has more omegas than the ‘Guard, but seriously, how cool is that?”

“’s cool…” Noct slurred, voice thick and gravelly. “You gonna go join the Glaive then?”

“What? No!” Prompto practically shrieked. “No, I wanna be in the ‘Guard when I finish Uni. I can just about manage your Armiger, but no way I can stomach all the warping and stuff. But how cool is it that he’s an omega?” He wiggled with excitement, drawing an amused, affectionate huff of laughter from the alpha. “He’s so tough and badass and cool!”

Prompto glanced over his shoulder at Noct’s pale face and, although his eyes were closed, the long lashes kissing his pale cheeks, he saw the quiet smile on his lips. “It’s nice,” he muttered. “You should train with him.”

Prompto’s heartbeat clanged in his ears. “You think he’d train me?”

“Sure, why not?” Noct said thickly. “Could always ask Specs though if you want more training.”

“I don’t really,” Prompto admitted. “I mean, I like what I’m doing, but my arms are _killing_ me from training with Gladio.” He paused a moment and wiggled his butt against Noct’s groin. It was hard to tell through the thick fabric of Noct’s pyjamas, but he thought he might be waking up despite his protests for more sleep. “No, I’m happy as is,” Prompto finished.

“Ok. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Now, can I sleep some more please?”

Prompto laughed, wriggled again so that he had one arm free, and raked his slender fingers through Noct’s impossibly soft hair. “Sure. You sleep. I got you breakfast for when you’re properly awake.”

“You did?”

“Mmhmm,” Prompto smiled.

“Best,” Noct grinned, his alpha tooth flashing as he smiled. “C’mere,” and he yanked Prompto close to him again, wrapping an arm around Prompto’s waist and rubbing the scent gland in his neck against Prompto’s cheek and exposed neck. “Love you,” he whispered, teeth catching the soft shell of Prompto’s ear and making the omega whine and shudder in pleasure.

“Noct,” Prompto whispered, voice trembling, breathless and shaky already. The tops of his thighs were slick again. “Noct, when you’re more awake, will you… can… can we…?”

“Yeah,” Noct smiled, his hand wandering south to find Prompto’s cock already hard. It wasn’t long before Noctis rolled his hips lazily against Prompto’s ass and brought his teeth down against his gland again with a purring growl.

 

***

 

“Come on,” Gladio growled. “We’ve only got two hours left til you have to start work again. I wanna treat you.”

“Gladio, please,” Ignis said. “I’d rather prepare for my meeting…” And he had very much been treated already that morning. His body ached in all the right ways, all the ways he prayed he’d never fully get used to, and he could still feel the echo of Gladio’s alpha growl in his mind as he came deep inside him, body braced and arched over him, head bowed, snarling six kinds of alpha nonsense against his ear. He shook his head and returned his eyes to the meeting agenda on the laptop in front of him. Now was not the time to give in to his omega.

“You prepared already!” Gladio countered, crossing his arms, a little buckle on his leather wrist cuff flashing in the sun from a nearby window. Ignis knew that beneath that leather cuff was a hefty bite mark left by his own teeth when he’d come for the third time in a row, desperate and whining and thrashing and being unable to think. He couldn’t let his mind linger on that now though. He would not.

Ignis snarled softly, baring his teeth in a brief flash of annoyance.

“No,” Gladio said, standing firmly, though not threateningly, in the living room, arms still folded across his massive chest. “No, you prepped already. I know you did. You read that agenda easily three times while I was in the shower.”

Ignis’ shoulders dropped by a hair and Gladio’s eyes caught the movement. Knowing he was defeated, that Gladio was perfectly correct, Ignis allowed his shoulders to slump the rest of the way, and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Very well. Though I may not be so amenable next time, you realise?”

Gladio nodded earnestly.

“What is it you have in mind?”

“Yes!” Gladio chuckled in quite triumph, balling one fist. He had his hair in a ponytail now, and it bobbed jovially too with the movement. “You’re gonna love it. There’s this new street food place that opened up just off the main farmers’ market last week, and I _know_ you won’t have had time to check it out. We’re going.”

Ignis had to smile. “Alright,” he agreed, pushing himself up from the table. He felt the ache where Gladio’s knot had stretched him and had to stop himself looking at him. If he did, Gladio would catch the heat in his gaze.

As he walked calmly, steadily, _decorously_ , towards his bedroom, he scraped his fingers through his un-styled hair, and faltered. It was unusual for him not groom himself fastidiously before leaving the confines of his apartment, but something about being with Gladio made him feel a little reckless.

“I like it like that,” Gladio said, eyeing his floppy fringe, his thoughts clearly keeping pace with Ignis’ own. “Reminds me of, like, two years ago? You used to wear it like that all the time.”

“You noticed?” Ignis couldn’t help asking as he pulled his dark, tailored jeans off the back of a chair and changed out of his soft, grey trackpants. Gladio watched him passively as he drew them over his long legs and began to tuck his pale shirt into the waistband.

Gladio didn’t respond to his question, his eyes locked on Ignis’ impossibly slim hips.

“Gladio?”

“Hmm?”

“Everything alright?”

“I…” Gladio broke off, scratching the back of his neck. He laughed and stepped closer to Ignis.

Ignis turned his face up to stare at Gladio’s as he loomed above him. The scar he’d earned not all that many years earlier still alarmed Ignis a little, recalling the way he’d earned it, but those eyes made it hard to linger on anything else.

“Can…?” Gladio began uncertainly. “Can I scent you?”

“Before we go out?” Ignis asked, clarifying.

“Yeah,” Gladio said, cheeks flushing. “Only if you’re comfortable with –”

“With being _claimed_ by an alpha?” Ignis asked, one eyebrow sailing up towards his hairline. “By being marked as property…?”

“Never!” Gladio scowled, taking a step back, “And you _know_ it.”

Ignis laughed, reaching for Gladio’s waist to draw their bodies closer again. “I’m teasing you, I’m sorry.”

Gladio’s eyes narrowed and he growled softly. “I still can’t tell if you do that deliberately.”

Ignis only crooked his lips into a smile. Honestly, he didn’t, but there was no way he was prepared to let Gladio know that. “Truly,” Ignis insisted. “I am sorry. I… I must admit that being scented, marked like that, is still unnerving for me, but, _but_ –” he repeated, bringing a finger to Gladio’s lips as he started to interrupt, “I realise that betas also allow alphas to mark them, and I have nothing to fear from being marked by you. So…” he said, turning his head slightly to one side in a gesture of open trust and submission. “Yes. You may scent me.”

“But do you _want_ me to?”

Ignis inhaled without moving, and then sighed. “ _Yes_ , Gladio. I do. Very much.”

“Why didn’t you just say that, you beautiful, impossible man?” Gladio snorted as snatched Ignis’ wrist up in his fingers and lowered his cheek to Ignis’ neck, beginning to rub circles there. He moved his own neck to Ignis’ skin, pressing his scent gland against Ignis, and then that incredible scent bloomed around him, around _them_.

Initially, for a giddying moment, it brought back that night after the assault. It brought back the way Gladio had reached out for him and drawn him close, eradicating the scent of that other alpha and replacing it with a tightly-woven net of security and support and empathy. Gladio had spun his own influence around him then, encasing him, protecting him, lifting him up, supporting him.

This was still so new, so utterly overwhelming, and yet so _absolutely_ everything he’d ever dreamed of, that he could not stop the gasp and whine leaving his chest this time either. “ _Gladio_ ,” he moaned, fingers of his free hand darting to grip Gladio’s biceps in an attempt to keep his knees from buckling.

But Gladio had a hold of him at the waist with one hand as he marked him. His scent wasn’t nearly as intense as the first time, but still, it left both of them breathless. “I’m yours, Iggy,” he said when he pulled back, pupils almost fully dilated. “I’m yours.”

Ignis felt his lips tug upwards into a wry smile. “Something tells me you’ve been mine for quite some time, Gladiolus,” he said.

“Yeah,” he rasped, eyes glassy and infinitely fond. Having knotted Ignis that morning, twice in relatively quick succession – quite the achievement for an alpha out of rut, Ignis had subsequently discovered – Gladio was left mellow and protective and sweet, and Ignis found he didn’t mind in the least. As long as Gladio dialled it back a little the moment they stepped out of the door.

Ignis was still anxious about how he would handle the transition from private omega to public beta, especially with Gladio beside him. Only one way to find out. The market, where they were unlikely to run into colleagues, would be a good proving ground.

“Let’s go,” Ignis said, grabbing wallet, phone and keys.

Gladio followed him without a word out into the street below his apartment block, and when they turned towards the market, Ignis paused.

Gladio cocked his head curiously, but his face broke into a beaming smile as Ignis slipped his hand delicately into Gladio’s palm.

Rising up on tiptoes, leaning close, Ignis jutted his chin ever so slightly, and purred just once at the alpha.

Gladio closed his eyes, holding his breath a moment as though etching the moment into his memory, and then, in an unusual display for an alpha, purred right back at him.

 

***

 

Ignis could hardly believe how _normal_ it felt, walking around the market with Gladio striding silently beside him. He was unusually quiet, though nothing in his scent indicated any displeasure, so Ignis made no mention of it. Sometimes Gladio would slide his palm down to the small of Ignis’ back, a warm weight through the fabric of his shirt, pressing on his skin for a moment, and at other times he would steer Ignis quietly around some obstacle or other while Ignis focused on the food stalls.

Most offered herbs, spices, fruit and vegetables from the outlying Lucian territories around the walls of Insomnia, with some sellers coming from further afield now that trade was almost fully re-established with Tenebrae.

Tenebraean fruits were larger, sweeter, and juicier than anything grown on Lucian soil, and Ignis reached for a massive peach, feeling the soft fuzz beneath his sensitive fingertips. Unusually, he had decided against gloves, another test of his willpower he supposed. He never did anything by halves. With skin as sensitive as his was, it was simply easier to keep as much of him covered up with high-necked shirts and starched cuffs. The supple leather gloves Noct had given him for his birthday had come in very handy for that.

Gladio trailed him patiently, his eyes rarely leaving Ignis for longer than a few seconds before flickering back to drink in an outline here, an expression there. He found it comforting instead of trying, and to Gladio’s credit, when an overzealous alpha tried to batter him into accepting a ludicrous price for a few grams of Leiden saffron, he let Ignis handle it, though Ignis felt him go rigid beside him.

Of course, he also instinctively stepped half a pace closer behind him, but Ignis found it was actually easier to weather the force of the pushy alpha’s intonation with the scent of Gladio’s marking still on his skin.

“No, I’m sorry,” Ignis scoffed. “That’s absurd. I’m not paying that much, and you can’t bully me into it either.”

He turned and stalked away, breathing through his nose to calm himself. Gladio’s hand came to rest briefly between his shoulder blades, and then it was gone. Ignis looked up at him, eyes crinkling in the corners. “That…” he began uncertainly, eyes falling back down to the cobbled street, “That was surprisingly easy,” he said, wishing it didn’t feel quite so much like a confession.

“Coz you’re awesome, Iggy,” Gladio grinned, alpha tooth and all.

Ignis rolled his eyes. “Come on. Where’s that street food you promised me? Resisting you alphas is hard work.”

Instead of walking off though, Gladio dipped his nose to Ignis’ ear and brushed his lips against the lobe. “You don’t have to resist me, Iggy,” he said.

Fighting the sparking, searing rush of lust that washed through him, Ignis screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. He went perfectly still, and Gladio sensed immediately that he’d gone too far. Images and memories of Gladio that morning, naked, beautiful, powerful, overwhelming, chased each other through Ignis’ mind. He ground his teeth, eyes tight shut.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Gladio said, stepping away, which only made it worse.

Ignis took another few breaths, then very deliberately let his shoulders drop. When he opened his eyes he saw that Gladio’s face had gone a few shades paler and he was staring with his golden eyes full to the brim with worry. “Ig…”

“Relax, Gladio. It’s alright. It was a good test.”

Gladio looked like he’d sooner believe that the sky was green than believe he’d not royally fucked up. “Ignis, I’m sorry, I –” His scent was acrid, like burning plastic in Ignis’ nose.

“Stop it,” Ignis chuckled, laying a hand on his chest. His heartbeat hammered clearly beneath the surface. Ignis sighed and, pushed his scent a little. “It’s fine. It’s not the first time you’ve had an effect on me, Gladiolus Amicitia. And it won’t be the last. Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry,” Gladio said again, sounding like he’d rather run himself through with his own sword than hurt Ignis. His gaze sank to the floor between them like a chastised schoolboy.

“I said, _stop it_ ,” Ignis said, letting a few drops of his omega intonation into his voice. Another test.

Gladio’s head snapped up and he stared at Ignis.

Ignis only slid his free hand into Gladio’s palm and squeezed. “We’re running out of time, Gladio. And I’m hungry.” He went up onto his tiptoes, still holding Gladio’s hand, and whispered, “And you do not want a hangry omega on your hands, Gladio.”

The tension shattered and Gladio laughed. It was not his usual, rich, deep laugh – lingering unease and fresh, sharp relief clearly congealed in the pit of Gladio’s stomach – but he clenched his fingers tightly around Ignis’ and led him to where the van was set up on the far corner of the market.

 

***

 

There were a few metal, fold-up tables scattered around the food truck, and Gladio let his eyes lock onto on the nape of Ignis’ neck as he wove through them ahead of him. Coming to a halt beside him, Gladio still studied Ignis as he studied the menu, hand-written on chalk boards on either side of the hatch.

Ignis’ profile was one of the most beautiful things Gladio had ever seen. He stared until he thought he could sculpt in clay that proud forehead, currently half-masked by a curtain of ash-brown hair, the little bump in his nose, of which Ignis was inexplicably shy, the delicate cupid’s bow lips whose corners hid a tiny, delicate smile…

“Gladio?”

“Huh?” he asked, crashing  back to the moment and realising the server had asked him a question. “Sorry, what?”

Ignis hid a laugh behind an artfully-timed cough. “What would you like?”

 _You_.

“Uh, I ain’t looked yet,” he said sheepishly. No one who heard him talk like that would believe he was the son and heir of the noble family that ranked the highest in Lucis, second only to the royal family itself. It was a habit he’d picked up from the soldiers in the Crownsguard, but he didn’t like sounding like some blue-blooded nobleman’s son anyway. The crisp accents and aristocratic purr sounded infinitely better on Ignis anyway. _Everything_ looked, sounded, smelled, felt better on him. Oh Astrals, he’d lost his train of thought again.

Ignis’ eyes were _infuriatingly_ knowing as he regarded Gladio. “Perhaps you’d like me to choose for you?” he said, his voice clipped and tight in comparison to how it had practically purred at him that morning.

 _Get your fucking mind out of your pants, Amicitia_ , he snarled at himself. “Yeah,” he managed to croak. “Sure. You got better taste than me anyway.”

“I hope not in everything,” he said suggestively as he turned back to the patient woman waiting to serve them.

“You wanna grab a seat here or take it somewhere else?” Gladio asked once Ignis had placed an order for two Galahdian dishes that neither of them had ever had before.

Ignis had quizzed her on the ingredients and preparation, his tone curiously polite. She’d seemed utterly entranced and enchanted by him, and Gladio couldn’t blame her.

Ignis’ green eyes darted around their corner of the market. “No, let’s take it somewhere else. There’s a little courtyard garden not far from here,” he added, turning back to the woman with a beautiful smile of thanks to take first Gladio’s and then his own food. The eco-friendly cardboard boxes were absolutely laden with food, and they barely fitted in Ignis’ hands, so Gladio hurried to pay, and took his own from Ignis.

“Thank you,” Ignis said, eyeing the food. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“My treat, remember. You can pay next time.”

Ignis’ eyes lit up at that, and he laughed softly through his nose in that way that showed, along with the crinkled corners of his eyes, that he was truly and unexpectedly amused. Gladio’s heart skipped a beat and then raced to catch up.

They moved in an easy, amicable silence through the winding streets off the market, with Ignis leading the way to the tiny garden. Gladio had had no idea it was there, though there were hundreds of these little miniature havens for birds and city wildlife tucked away all across the enormous city.

The space sat between two large town houses, and was divided off at the front with smart, black railings, sunk and leaded into a low wall about a foot high. A small metal plaque read: _This courtyard garden was donated to the City of Insomnia by Rosa Merimna._

The mid-September air was fragrant with flowers and moss, and Gladio smiled as they stepped through the gate. The atmosphere inside was quieter, sheltered from the bustle of the city, and it lent the space the air of a temple. Being there with Ignis made it feel sacred too.

A carved stone fountain bubbled contentedly at the centre of the paved courtyard, with massive stone planters lining the walls of the garden, filled to bursting with flowers. A bird feeder swayed in the breeze, and a number of little sparrows flitted about and quarrelled over feeding rights. Climbing roses reached their winding tendrils up the walls, searching with thorny fingers for a hold on the crumbling plaster and masonry of the houses on either side of the garden. A small, gnarled apple tree nestled down in the corner opposite the one which Ignis had picked out. It was so peaceful.

Sinking quietly onto the bench, Ignis looked up at Gladio then, and his heart did that strange stuttering skip it did every time Ignis looked at him like that. All he could do was grin back stupidly and hope it was enough. So far it seemed to have been.

Astrals, he was so far gone.

“You’re not normally this quiet,” Ignis commented as he opened his cardboard food box and cracked the takeaway chopsticks apart. The aroma of steamed fish rose from the box in his hand, and Gladio’s stomach rumbled. They’d not managed to fit breakfast in around their rounds of furious fucking that morning.

He followed Ignis’ lead and took a bite of the amazing food before answering. “Just happy,” he said.

But such an answer was not good enough for Ignis. He paused, then continued to bring the chopsticks to his lips, all while maintaining unwavering eye-contact with Gladio.

Gladio nearly choked on an entirely empty mouth. “Don’t _do_ that, Ignis,” he growled playfully, shaking his head, hoping his immense fondness for the effect Ignis had on him showed in his expression and tone. From the little blush that graced Ignis’ cheeks, he guessed it did. “Seriously. You worry about _you_ not being ready for alphas, but seriously, spare a little thought for the rest of us having to deal with you from time to time, will ya?”

He chomped a satisfyingly huge mouthful of fish and noodle down, and then brought up the subject that had been worming away in the back of his thoughts. Not worrying, exactly, but still, playing on his mind.

“So, Nyx asked me to come to the Riverbend Tavern tonight…” he began, without looking at Ignis. He had no idea if Ignis would be up for this. True, they’d been out together with Noct and Prompto any number of times, but this would be the first time they’d been anywhere social as a couple. Were they even a couple? Gods, Gladio had no idea what he was doing with Ignis. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and looked sidelong at Ignis.

With a curious expression on his beautiful face, Ignis was staring askance at him, those intense green eyes locked on his own.

“You… You wanna come too?” he asked hopefully.

The corners of Ignis’ mouth curled upwards in amusement. “You thought I’d say no, didn’t you?”

“Honestly, I had no idea what you’d be comfortable with…”

“I’d like to come,” he said softly a heartbeat later. “How many people will be there?”

“No idea,” he said, resuming his food-shovelling at an astonishing rate, even for an Amicitia. Anyone who had met Iris shouldn’t have been surprised at the way an Amicitia could tuck food away. Gladio was no exception to this rule. Especially when he was nervous.

“Alright,” Ignis said, with infinite patience. “Who will be there?”

“Some Glaives,” he said, “Nyx, Libertus, Crowe… Maybe a couple of the ‘Guard too.”

Ignis nodded to himself, as though he’d been expecting such a vague answer. “I take it Noct and Prompto won’t be there.”

“I…” he halted, chewing. “I don’t think Nyx invited them?” Would he feel safer if Noct and Prom were there?

Ignis seemed surprisingly pleased by that, however, and then nodded again. “Yes, alright. I’d like to come with you.”

Gladio grinned, hoping he didn’t have kale between his teeth, and resumed his munching.

“What time?”

“Around eight, I think.”

Ignis nodded one final time. “That should give me plenty of time to finish up the work that got put to one side this morning. Yes, I’d like to come.”

Gladio’s lungs fizzled with excited nerves, and he put his box of food down on his thigh, abandoning his chopsticks to lean against the side of the box for a moment, and looped his arm around Ignis’ shoulders.

The omega – he would hardly have believed Ignis was an omega if he hadn’t seen him in such a delicious, delirious tangle that very morning – seemed to allow himself a small smile, and he rested his weight against Gladio’s body a moment.

Gladio leaned across and nuzzled at the tempting gland in Ignis’ neck, trying to ignore the rush of hormones in his body that told him to bite down hard and show Ignis he was ready to be his alpha. His jaw clenched and he wasn’t sure he didn’t let out a surge of alpha pheromones that told Ignis exactly what was on his mind. “I love you,” he said instead. “Thank you.”

Ignis only smiled and nuzzled him back, planting a graceful and chaste hand on his thigh, just above his knee. “Thank _you_ , Gladiolus,” he said, his rich tenor voice.

“Has it been ok today? With me… you know…” His eyes flickered down to the slight darkening over Ignis’ scent gland where he’d sucked on it that morning.

Ignis caught his meaning, and brought the tips of his fingers up to touch his neck. “Yes,” he said. “That alpha hardly had any effect on me. Not that I haven’t weathered much worse, of course, but…”

Gladio’s heart lurched at that. “Ig… Who…? Who was the alpha who you trained with?”

Ignis shook his head, leaning away from him. “Not now, Gladio. I might tell you one day, but please…”

For all his bulk and muscle, Gladio was not stupid. He recognised a brick wall when he saw one. He nodded. “Fine. I’m sorry. I… I just…”

“I know,” Ignis said, squeezing the muscle of his thigh. “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready to talk about that yet.”

Something told Gladio it wasn’t that. Something told Gladio it was _he_ who was not ready to hear it. He bit down a growl and smothered it with another mouthful of Galahdian fish.

“Gladio?” Ignis asked a while later, eyes locked on the splashing water in the fountain.

“Mmm?”

“When we go tonight, do you want to go as a couple?”

“Half the palace knows already knows we fucked…” He cursed himself for his stupid, oh-so-very _alpha_ answer.

Ignis actually snorted a laugh at that though, shaking his head.

“I’d like to,” Gladio corrected. That was an understatement. He wanted to scream from the highest parapet of the citadel that he was prepared to be Ignis’ alpha, but he’d waited this long, existing on nothing but the fumes of hope. He could wait a little longer. “But whatever you’re comfortable with,” he finished with a shrug.

“I’d like that,” Ignis smiled. “Truly, I would.”

“Couple it is then,” Gladio chuckled, unable to stop the thousand and one butterflies in his ribcage from bursting forth in the form of a massive, toothy, _alpha_ -infused grin.


	13. Riverbend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladio and Ignis join the Glaives for some fun at a traditional Galahdian pub on the other side of town, and both Ignis and Gladio put their new situation to the test in an environment where alcohol and pheromones of all dynamics mix freely. Gladio proves he's more than the perfect alpha for Ignis in a number of ways, especially once they get back to the privacy of Iggy's apartment after all the mischief that Nyx has been playfully causing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slides very nervously back in and waves shyly* Hello... I hope you still remember this story, and me, and aren't too cross with me for not being able to write it sooner. 
> 
> I totally burned myself out of the FFXV fandom by just doing too much, but I knew I needed to write and post this today for someone very very special who deserves a whole lot more than I can give her across the Atlantic. I love you, friend, and I hope this is enough for now. <3

A fine autumn drizzle misted down as they strode from the metro, collars turned up against the rain. Lamplight glimmered, gilding the pavement in stark contrast to the dark shadows and crumbling walls of this part of the city. The old sign of the traditional Galahdian pub swung in strong wind, light flashing on its wet paint. It showed the bend in a river, flanked by verdant banks, which gave the pub its name. 

Ignis _hated_ the rain, which was to say that his omega hated the rain. Hated it more than the cold, which meant that Ignis’ mood was steadily barrelling towards what he might have called ‘mildly irritated’ and anyone else might have dubbed ‘intensely murderous’. Still, it boded well for not turning into an overwhelmed and slick-soaked omega in the presence of Gladio and a number of other alphas who were sure to be there to celebrate the formulation of the security plan for the Nox Fleuret visit.

It was a rather tenuous reason for the gathering, but then again, the Glaives never needed a reason to get together and drink each other into oblivion.

Gladio put his hand to the brass plate on the door and shoved hard, the warped wooden door sticking a little at the corners. He stepped inside and held it open for Ignis when it inevitably caved to his strength.

Ignis turned on the threshold to shake the water from his umbrella before hanging it on a peg by the door beside a number of others. When he turned back and slid out of his coat, Gladio was raising his arm and grinning at a group of Glaives at the far end of the bar. A small dance space was just visible at the back of the pub behind them.

There was music, something folky and typically Galahdian that made Ignis’ body want to move already, and the atmosphere was thick with unblocked scents beneath the sharp tang of alcohol. Galahdians in particular were free and open with their scents and dynamics in a way that native Insomnians just weren’t. He’d heard that things were more relaxed beyond the great shimmering wall, but inside its boundary it was hard to believe that.

In the corner with the Glaives, Ignis could make out Nyx Ulric, Libertus Ostium, Crowe Altius, a young man with curly black hair and an easy smile whose name he did not know, a bolshie looking man with dark red hair, quick eyes and a scar up one cheek, and a few others he knew only by sight. Gladio, he realised, appeared to know them all.

Nyx hopped off his bar stool and flashed a white smile that made the apples of his cheeks puff up with the sincerity of the gesture, and his eyes crinkled in the corners. He shot Ignis a look too, and the smile widened even further. Dread plunged, cold and uncomfortable as a handful of river gravel to the pit of his stomach as Ignis expected some catty remark about the two of them being _together_. But it never came.

Nyx spread his arms a little, leaned back and laughed. “Glad you made it,” he said, his gaze encompassing the two of them. “This round’s on Lib. What d’you want?”

Gladio slapped Nyx playfully on the back while Ignis just stood there and nodded a terse greeting. He cursed himself for his social awkwardness. He glanced around and tried to match his behaviour to the others in the group, but it was impossible.

The curly-haired one, clearly an omega from his shy smile and easy laugh, leaned casually against the bar, laughing with the red-haired one who almost threw out more _alpha_ vibes than Gladio in the training centre, and Crowe, a beta with a laugh like a drain, had her arms crossed over her chest while she engaged in a heated discussion with Libertus about something. Ignis was trained for the social etiquette of formal dinners and drinks parties at the palace, where dynamic was everything and everyone knew their place. He was not at all familiar with pub gatherings and groups of people for whom dynamic was as inconsequential as hair colour.

Gladio’s hand on the small of his back drew his racing mind to a skid-stop and he looked up questioningly.

“What do you want to drink?” Gladio asked quietly. Somehow something was happening that made it easier for Ignis to focus. He looked into Gladio’s eyes and watched his pupils dilate until they were barely haloed with bright gold at all. Nothing about his scent had changed, but there was undeniably _something_ happening.

“I… I’m not sure…” he faltered. “Glass of wine perhaps?” He looked around and saw that all the others had beer, but the bitter, hoppy tang of the drink had never appealed to him.

Gladio didn’t seem to think it out of place. “Red or white?”

Would white wine be too much of an omega’s drink? He had no idea. Panic was simmering beneath the surface, threatening to break through like an over-boiling pot.

Gladio just took his hand and turned back to place his order with the petite bar attendant behind the counter. All the while he spoke, he traced circles on Ignis’ hand with his thumb. “One Old Tangleroot,” he said, nodding to the beer’s label on the tap which bore a stylised image of a mangrove tree with its roots in deep, clear water. “And a dry white.”

And that was it. No one commented or cast looks. Gladio turned back to him and cocked his head to one side. “Ok?” he finally asked.

“I…” He was alright, just puzzled. This should be so much harder than it was. “Yes,” he smiled, making a conscious effort to relax his shoulders. “Of course.”

Nyx butted in at that point. He was back on his stool, leaning on the wooden bar for support, but he thwacked Gladio on the chest with the back of his hand in a flailing gesture that clearly indicated just how much he’d already had to drink. “Anyone here you boys don’t know yet?” he asked.

The omega with dark, curly hair looked up and smiled across at Ignis. “We haven’t met,” he said, reaching a hand out to him. “I’m Pelna.”

“Ignis,” he replied, shaking the strong, callused hand politely with a warm smile.

The red-headed alpha barged Pelna out of the way before he had even leaned back in his seat. He stuck his hand out, palm turned downwards in a typically dominant gesture that made Gladio bristle quietly beside Ignis. He held his shoulders firm and back, chest jutting forwards, and flashed an alpha tooth. He wasn’t any taller than Ignis, but he clearly thought he had inches on everyone else in the room. And not just in height.

Ignis, who still held Gladio’s hand in his left, offered his right and resisted the unnecessarily firm grip of the alpha with ease. It wasn’t the first alpha handshake he’d weathered, nor would it be the last. Besides, he had cultivated a pretty decent handshake himself.

“Tredd Furia,” the stranger grinned, alpha teeth still on show as he pushed out a wash of his scent, like dark chocolate and oranges.

Crowe broke off her conversation with Libertus, reached across and punched Tredd on the shoulder, “Gross, Tredd,” she snapped. “Seriously.”

Nyx’ lip curled a little too, and a tiny crinkle appeared between his cheek and his nose. Ignis thought it was surprisingly cute for someone usually so brash and tough.

“Pleasure,” Ignis said, voice deliberately clipped.

As Ignis’ eyes flickered from Tredd’s unabashed smirk to Nyx’s face, he caught the rich, heady scent of campfire smoke and fast-flowing rivers, moss on sun-warmed rocks and ozone. Gladio obviously caught it at the same time, but if his body had been tense before, he went rigid now, fingers clenching painfully around Ignis’.

Nyx looked sideways up at him, mischief glowing behind pale blue irises. He opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Crowe stuck her finger in his face and said, “Nyx, don’t you be a shit either. Not yet. It’s too fucking early. Keep your fucking dynamics in check, both of you.”

He bared his teeth in a silent grimace at her, but there were dimples in his cheeks as he took a great swig of his beer. “Ahh, fuck,” he chuckled, shuffling in his seat a little. “Caused myself more trouble than I did them,” he said.

He glanced back up at Gladio, still looming over him, still absolutely stock still.

“You didn’t know, did you?” Nyx said quietly once he’d swallowed his beer.

“No.” Gladio’s voice was little more than an indistinct rumble.

And then Ignis realised why Tredd was peacocking around, why Libertus was staring slack-jawed and no doubt half-hard, and why Gladio wasn’t breathing through his nose.

Nyx was an omega.

Ignis felt almost faint, and swayed a little where he stood. Gladio’s fingers were the tether keeping him to the spot. Nyx Ulric, hero of the Kingsglaive, one of the best wielders of the king’s magic, and all-round general _badass_ , was an _omega_.

When Nyx saw Ignis’ expression, a small spray of beer actually shot out of his nose and he started to choke and laugh all at the same time. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, Scientia,” he finally wheezed while Libertus smacked him on the back and took his beer bottle from him before any more of it slopped over his skin-tight leather pants. “But your face was such a fucking picture. I’m sorry. I –” he cut off as a second coughing fit overwhelmed him, eyes watering profusely.

“You’re…” Ignis breathed, hardly daring to believe it.

But of course, Ignis knew he shouldn’t be so shocked at Nyx’ openness. Not really. Galahdians were so much more forthcoming about their dynamics. In fact, the more he thought about it, the less he should have been surprised at _all_.

Galahdians actually held omegas in higher regard than any other dynamic. Omegas had nothing to fear in Galahd. They were respected. People _looked up_ to them. People trusted them with positions of power. They were particularly receptive to magic; lithe, strong warriors; empathetic; and Galahdian alphas practically _revered_ their omegas. No wonder Nyx was so casual and uncaring about it among his friends, most of whom were from Galahd itself, or close members of the Glaive.

“I’m surprised _you_ didn’t know, Scientia.” Nyx said. “You seem to know _everything_ …” The way he said it wasn’t unkind. It was slightly reverential if anything. “But this is the second time today I’ve seen these expressions –” he gestured at Gladio and Ignis’ faces “ – and let me fucking tell you, it _never_ gets old. Astrals, I’m sorry. But it’s worth not telling people just for their faces when they do find out.”

“Nyx,” Libertus laughed. “Here’s your beer. And you’re still being a dick.”

Nyx took the bottle from him and stared pointedly at Libertus’ crotch for a good three seconds, before the alpha’s face coloured a violent red and he looked away, hand shifting to cover his groin.

Nyx then looked up at Ignis and Gladio in turn, and shot them a cheeky wink. “Well, now that that’s out the way,” he raised his bottle in a toast and said, “Here’s to putting together a security plan for the Nox Fleurets that’s a _million_ times better than the _first_ one the fucking Crownsguard came up with…” He shot Ignis a meaningful look over the top of his beer at the word ‘first’, and Ignis smiled openly.

Gladio finally managed to make himself relax enough to start participating in conversation again like the sentient being he actually was, and Ignis took the chance to sit back and watch him a little. For all that they had been out with Noct and Prompto before, somehow this was the first time they’d ever been out in the evening anywhere just the two of them. Of course, they’d snatched amicable lunches here and there, but until that evening, Ignis had not trusted himself to be alone with an alpha where there was alcohol, let alone with the one who always seemed to slip his influence past Ignis’ defences.

Crowe tugged Nyx onto the dancefloor a while later, shortly followed by Tredd, Libertus, and Pelna. They had apparently spotted another few members of the Glaive out there, and in no time, there was a knot of wild Galahdians all letting loose and dancing to the sway of the intoxicating, folky rhythms.

Ignis sipped the last of his wine and looked up at Gladio.

“You doing ok?” Gladio asked, leaning on elbow on the table and casually swirling the remainder of his rich, malty beer around the bottom of his glass.

Ignis smiled sweetly and nodded. “Surprisingly, this all seems much easier than I thought it would be.” With the knowledge that Gladio was his as much as he was Gladio’s, everything just seemed easier. That didn’t mean his instincts weren’t there, but everything was just more under his control.

Gladio’s lopsided grin showed his alpha tooth and Ignis felt a rush of warmth in his chest. Being in love with your best friend and finally taking the next step together meant that they had skipped all of the early awkwardness of dating and shot straight to where it felt right and easy and natural. Of course, there were still plenty of hurdles to be overcome, but Ignis felt sure it would be nothing they couldn’t handle together.

As Gladio took his hand under the table, resting it on his thigh and caressing his wrist with his thumb, Crowe and Nyx returned, sweaty and flushed from dancing, and grabbed Gladio’s arm. “Come on you two,” Nyx beamed. “Come dance! Prove Crowe wrong.”

“Prove Crowe wrong?” Ignis asked, bravely not letting go of Gladio’s hand, despite his instant instinct to pretend they’d not been that close.

“She says Lucians got no rhythm.”

“I’m Tenebraean, originally,” Ignis said calmly. “And everyone knows Tenebraeans have excellent rhythm. I can’t speak for the number of left feet this behemoth has though,” he added, raising his and Gladio’s joined hands jovially.

“Oi,” Gladio began, but a small knot of Glaives had drifted over with them, and Ignis glanced up to see a few more faces he knew from the Citadel. One of them, a pinch-faced beta with dishwater-blond hair and watery eyes and a sharp squint, was Lazarus Luche. That man was the very distillation of every ‘beta’ stereotype imaginable: cold, arrogant, haughty, aloof…

Right on queue, Luche sneered, “Gladiolus might dance, and you might be Tenebraean, but it’s not like the Ice Queen here knows how to have _fun_ …”

Gladio growled deep in his chest, half rising, but Ignis laughed and set down his wine glass, crossing his legs in a movement that drew Gladio’s glowing eyes back to him instantly. “You’re right,” Ignis said, voice steady, though it carried above the music. His tone took on a deeply patronising edge that cut through the conversation like Cor’s katana. “At _Ice Queen school_ we only learn how to dance the _galliard_. I’m afraid this noise you call contemporary music is utterly impossible to dance to, as evidenced by your efforts just now.”

For the second time that evening, Nyx almost shot beer through his nose as he took a swig from Gladio’s nearly empty glass. “Fucking _owned_ , Luche,” he laughed, turning and shoving Luche with his hips. Lightning flashed in Luche’s eyes, but he turned away with a derisive snort and went back to the dance floor to re-join the others.

Gladio cocked an eyebrow at Ignis, who couldn’t wipe the smile from his lips, and shook his head fondly, lips twisting into a smile. “Shall we, Gladiolus?” he said.

“Hell yeah,” Gladio laughed, shoving his wooden chair back with a raucous scrape and holding his hand out to help Iggy up.

The beat of the music seeped into Ignis’ core and he closed his eyes as Gladio turned around on the dance floor to face him. Ignis had only ever danced the formal dances of the court ballrooms, but he’d been watching the others, how they let their bodies and their inhibitions go and swayed together, feet stomping, heads swinging, hair flailing, bodies grinding, and he had to grind his teeth together to keep from smirking as he began to dance _very_ close to Gladio.

Heat radiated from Gladio’s chest as he put his hands on Ignis’ waist, guiding him, enhancing his moves with a quietly supportive touch, his palms searing through the simple shirt against his skin. His alpha presence billowed in a cloud of influence around him, and Ignis had eyes only for him. Time slowed. Somehow, however, Gladio managed to keep from tipping into someplace sexual and kept his influence at ‘possessive’ and ‘protective’.

Gladio bumped up against Nyx, dancing behind him, and looked around over his shoulder. Nyx’ eyes went wide before shifting to Ignis. “Damn, Scientia,” he grinned, grey eyes raking appreciatively over Ignis’ body and the way it moved, shimmying over with surprising elegance given his blood-alcohol levels, and he took Ignis’ hand for a moment.

Ignis was so surprised that he just let him, all the while staring at an equally astonished Gladio. Something crackled in the air between them, like ozone and impending lightning. It made Ignis’ skin prickle, and Gladio took a sharp inhale. Then Nyx stepped right between them, facing Ignis, and twirled Ignis around beneath his arm before grinding his ass into Gladio for a moment before letting go of Ignis’ hand and continuing on his merry way back to the bar without even a backward glance.

Gladio stared after him for another few second before guffawing with laughter and yanking Ignis tight against his chest. “You,” he grinned, murmuring in Ignis’ ear as he pressed himself close, “Are something else, you know that? You even make other omegas fall for you, and they have no idea, do they?”

“I certainly hope not,” he said, and in a rush of bravery, he looped his fingers up around the back of Gladio’s head and pulled him down for a deep, sensuous kiss that made his head spin and Gladio’s heartbeat hammer.

When he pulled back, Gladio’s eyes were nearly black, with only a halo of gold around the pupils. “You wanna get out of here?” Gladio rasped.

Ignis nodded, and Gladio sighed, smiling. “Good.”

Nyx tossed them a wink as he headed back to the dance floor, a huge, lurid pink cocktail in his hand, and as he passed Gladio, he slapped him on the arse without missing a beat.

Ignis slipped his hand into Gladio’s and squeezed.

“Getting territorial on me, Iggy?” Gladio snorted, kissing the side of Ignis’ head.

It was still such a novelty, such a luxury to be able to do this, to be so open, that Ignis almost didn’t reply. “He’s doing it to rile you up, Gladiolus,” he chuckled.

“Well it’s fucking working,” Gladio growled back. “C’mon. Get your shit, or I’ll end up knotting you in a side alley on the way home.”

Ignis stopped at that, eyes closing. It wasn’t the scenario that Gladio had mentioned which appealed to him – far from it –  but the mention of being knotted, with all these pheromones in the air, and the alcohol in his system, suddenly caused a deep fracture to appear in his iron self control.

“Shit,” Gladio said as he smelled Ignis’ slick. “I’m sorry.”

Ignis ground his teeth, trying not to shift obviously. That rush of slick had made his boxers suddenly very uncomfortable. He breathed evenly for a moment, like someone trying to stave off a wave of nausea, and then nodded curtly, pressing forward slowly through the crowd towards the door. Gladio waved goodbye at Nyx, and yelled something, undoubtedly rude, back at him that was lost over the music.

As Ignis passed the bar, he felt a hand grab his backside and squeeze hard. Scowling, he rounded on Gladio, expecting to see him looking cheekily innocent, but his face drained of blood when he saw that Gladio had both his hands on his phone, using both thumbs to type out a text.

Gladio’s nose twitched at the scent of Ignis’ outrage and he looked up. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Ignis growled, and turned to resume his way to the exit, walking straight into someone now blocking his path who had not been there a second or two earlier.

“Hey sweetheart,” the alpha leered, leaning forwards. “You smell almost too sweet for a beta…”

Ignis rolled his eyes. “Step aside please,” he said.

“Ohh, a _gentleman_ , and he’s got a hot accent,” the alpha smiled.

Gladio stepped between them in a heartbeat. “And a big alpha boyfriend too,” he growled, fists balled at his side, threat emanating from every line and pore of his body.

The other alpha took one look at him and then just laughed. Looking at Ignis over Gladio’s huge shoulder, he grinned. “Too bad, sweetheart. Come back here when he gets tired of fucking a beta. I’ll be here to make you forget him.”

“Presumptuous,” Ignis muttered, sliding a hand around the small of Gladio’s back and guiding him towards the door with a less than gentle shove. “Come on.”

“You have to deal with that shit often?” Gladio asked, his tone subdued, as they collected Ignis’ coat and umbrella and stepped out into the night.

It had stopped raining, and everything had that glistening neon gleam to it that made the city seem to pulse and thrum with a heartbeat and life of its own beneath the iridescent gleam of the wall above.

“It’s worse for omegas who are actually open about what they are,” he said regretfully, hooking the handle of the brolly over his right forearm, tucking his hand into his jacket pocket, and sliding his left hand into the crook of Gladio’s elbow as though they’d been doing this their whole lives.

Gladio adjusted his stride to match Ignis’ only a little, and then Ignis caught the growling coming from him.

“Stop, Gladio,” he said, pausing and drawing the other man to a halt beside him.

“It’s not right,” he said, voice thick with emotion, eyes glassy.

“It’s a hundred times better for omegas here in Lucis than it is in Tenebrae, or even Niflheim, Gladio,” Ignis said evenly.

“It should be,” Gladio muttered darkly. “Well, better than the Niffs, at any rate. What’s it like in Tenebrae then?”

Ignis sighed. “I moved here with my uncle when I was young, but I do remember what it was like, and I am not ignorant of the state of affairs there now.”

Gladio had gone very still, the night breezes shivering through his dark hair as he listened to Ignis speak.

“Omegas there are seen as subservient to alphas and betas in all things. As I’m sure you already know, alphas are relatively rare in Tenebrae, the majority of the population being betas and omegas. Omegas stay at home, they do not leave without their alpha, they do not speak to others without their alpha present… They are expected to be educated but meek and mild-mannered. Decorative in public and engaging in private. They attend special schools where they learn deportment, music, cookery, needlework, dance… all the traditional ‘omega’ arts.” He sighed. “Let’s keep walking, Gladio,” he said. “I’m getting cold.”

Gladio was silent as they paced on, but eventually he said, “That would have been your life, wouldn’t it, if you’d stayed there?”

Ignis heart clenched. “I try not to think of the vast differences between my life now and what it could have been,” he said. “But yes. I would probably have been married off to a suitable beta or alpha by now, and would have already borne at least one child to them.”

Gladio tripped on a curb as the stepped up onto the pavement in front of the metro station, and Ignis steadied him, glancing sideways at him.

“Is… is that something you’d… you’d ever… you know?” Gladio asked, his cheeks flushing.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?” Ignis snorted as he swiped his card and stepped through the metro gates ahead of Gladio. “I’m perfectly happy in my position, aware of the immense privilege I have over others of my kind, even Prompto. I hope that when Noctis is king, he can continue the groundwork that his father has already laid out, and that following our renewed friendship with Tenebrae, things can be improved there too in time.” The situation with Niflheim, where omegas were treated little better than brood mares and sex slaves was something that would take more than ‘talks’ to change, but he kept quiet about that.

Gladio slid his fingers into Ignis’ and squeezed him hard as they waited on the empty metro platform for the train that would take them back to the Citadel district. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Ignis’ lips twitched at the corner and he looked askance at him. When Gladio caught the wry look in his green eyes, he let go of Ignis’ hand and caught his face up in both of his, cupping his jaw and crushing an immensely fond kiss into Ignis’ lips so hard he let out a muffled ‘ _umph_ ’ of surprise.

Ignis’ heart soared as he consciously relaxed his spine. “Gladio,” he said, pulling back. “I need to get home… I need you to take me home first…”

Gladio’s eyes sparkled again, and he wasted no more time in getting Ignis back to his apartment once they were off the train at the other end. He’d stripped him almost before they reached the end of the hallway of Ignis’ modest apartment.

Gladio surprised Ignis by sinking to his knees, still barely with his own jacket off, and grabbed Ignis’ sharp hipbones in his big hands, shoving him back against the wall.

Ignis was wet and wanting already, but when Gladio thumbed two matching arcs over the junction between his thighs and groin, Ignis’ cock swelled with heated interest and he keened, his knees wobbling.

Looking down, as flashes of sensation sparked along his skin, Ignis saw what he would have deemed an impossible sight before that night: an alpha, on his knees before an omega, about to suck him off in his own apartment.

And yet this was no ordinary alpha. This was _Gladio_.

He willingly went down on his knees, thinking of Ignis’ pleasure before his own, grabbed the firm muscle of Ignis’ ass and then shifted one hand to steady the base of Ignis’ cock as he licked his lips and pressed his mouth over the weeping head of Ignis’ cock in an ‘o’ that made Ignis keen all over again.

“I want you to stay upright for me,” Gladio said as he pulled back after just one, tauntingly delicious sweep down and up his shaft. “No collapsing this time.”

Ignis’ head was spinning.

“Iggy? You hear me?” Gladio asked, the vaguest hint of alpha intonation creeping into his voice, cutting through Ignis’ haze of lust.

“Yes,” he nodded, fingers clenching in Gladio’s thick hair.

“Good,” Gladio said, and although it was an acknowledgement of Ignis’ confirmation, Ignis’ omega took it as praise, and he keened again, making Gladio chuckle.

As Gladio got to work on him, a delicious rhythm that had heat coiling in his lower body in minutes, he felt slick begin to drip down his inner thighs. Without breaking rhythm, Gladio’s finger trailed through it, tracing smooth, slippery circles on Ignis’ sensitive skin until Ignis was whimpering and moaning, only able to use his _omega_ voice.

Finally, as Gladio slipped his fingers up and caressed a single fingertip along the crease behind Ignis’ balls, the omega’s chin went up, his head hitting the wall behind him, and he came with a broken cry into Gladio’s mouth.

Gladio drank him down, supporting his entire weight with his hands now as Ignis’ joints turned to water and he collapsed under the weight of the ecstasy flooding along his veins.

Once he’d finished coming, Gladio scooped him up, one arm around his shoulders and his other under his knees, and carried him to his bedroom.

“You,” Ignis slurred, looking up at him with his glasses all wonky, “Look entirely too pleased with yourself.”

“And you,” Gladio replied, laying him down on top of the bed, “Have no idea how much pleasure it just gave me to do that for you.”

Ignis reached an unsteady hand out for the fly of Gladio’s jeans and stroked the hard line he felt beneath the thick fabric. Gladio rumbled something wordless as he ripped his shirt off and got to work on the buckle of his belt, and when he sprang his erection free, Ignis, who had rallied enough to push himself up onto all fours, eyed the pillows meaningfully. Slick dripped from him onto the covers and down his leg but he ignored it.

The alpha was breathing hard, his eyes glassy and dark, and Gladio complied and laid back as Ignis trailed feather-light fingers up Gladio’s solid legs until they trembled. The sounds he coaxed out of Gladio with his mouth after that were almost worthy of an omega, Ignis was pleased to note, and he only stopped when Gladio was so close he couldn’t keep his eyes open. His abs clenched, his hands fisted in the sheets, and his feet arched, toes curling.

“Please, fuck… Iggy,” he panted. “Stop, stop! I’m gonna come if you… if you keep doing… fuck… _that_ …” and with a growl, he switched their places, lifting Ignis’ legs up and lining himself up. He couldn’t resist running his fingers down Ignis’ slick-soaked legs one more time though, smearing it along Ignis’ hard cock before beginning to push inside him.

As Gladio’s cock filled him, Ignis felt his vision going white, feeling that sense of wholeness, of completeness, that he’d never experienced before Gladio. Gladio seated himself fully inside Ignis on that first stroke, the knot slipping into him with relatively little resistance since Ignis had come once already, his body looser and prepared for an alpha’s knot now.

As that knot stretched him, locking them together once again, Gladio began to shift in response to Ignis’ keening calls, and after mere seconds of rapidly, desperately, snapping his hips against Ignis, he was emptying himself into Ignis with a roar of pleasure.

His hips pulsed, his release filling Ignis utterly, and the sensation of him hitting against his prostate drove Ignis to a second peak, spilling onto his hard, taut abs with a purely _omega_ cry.

Gladio’s arms shook with the force of his orgasm, and he slumped forwards over Ignis, barely managing not to crush him. He pressed vague kisses against Ignis’ scent gland, making Ignis clench around him all over again as his body spasmed with shocks of pleasure at the sensation.

Gladio’s sudden laughter a little while later brought him back to his senses a little though.

“What?” he asked, his voice hoarse, a few notes deeper than usual.

“Nyx is a little shit,” Gladio chuckled, and Ignis found himself laughing too.

“Are you going to thank him or kill him next time you see him?” Ignis asked, smiling.

“I’ll decide that when I do see him,” Gladio said, pulling out of Ignis with a grunt, knot barely reduced enough to allow it. He ran his fingers down Ignis’ chest, smearing through the mess on his abs and teasing the inner curve of his hips, down the side of his balls, enough to make them tighten and his cock twitch. “Again?” he asked, half impressed and half pleased.  

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “I do believe you once said that omegas are ‘designed to come a lot more than alphas’. Now that you’ve ‘unleashed’ the omega in me, I’m starting to wonder if you are really able to deal with it…”

“Never,” Gladio growled, taking Ignis’ already hard cock in his hand, “Let it be said that Gladiolus Amicitia backed down from a challenge.”

Ignis’ laugh turned into a deep moan as Gladio’s thumb pressed against the slit at the head of his cock and Ignis threw his head back into the pillows, allowing Gladio to take control of him once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm as thirsty as almost any writer for kudos and feedback, so if you liked it feel free to let me know! And also feel free to come and talk to me me on Tumblr if you like: @expectogladiolus for FFXV fanfic and @raufnirsramblings for more original fics and occasional excerpts from my current fantasy novel. 
> 
> I'm happy to talk headcanons for this, or if you have any questions about it, come drop me a message!


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